He paused, breathed heavily into the mouthpiece. “Not one you’d believe.”
“Well, the kids want to know where their father is. They don’t understand much, but they’re starting to worry too.”
That hurt. “I’m really sorry. I’m in Mercy Falls. That’s all I can say, and that I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“What about work?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m coming up there,” she said.
“No! You can’t!”
“What?”
“You’ll be endangering your life, and the kids! Please don’t come up here!”
“Are you saying you’re in some sort of trouble?”
“No,” he backtracked, “That’s not what I’m saying. I’ll be fine. Just don’t come here, please. I love you Donna.”
Myron disconnected before she could ask anything else.
5
“End of the line.”
“Huh?” Tony said.
“Your stop, the Radisson.”
“Um, yeah, sorry. Thanks. I must have been daydreaming.” He paid the driver and stepped out of the taxi. If any of them were here yet they’d be asleep by now. He’d caught the Redeye, and it was the middle of the night. He supposed he’d just hit the sack. But curiosity got the best of him, and he asked the clerk about his friends. The attendant wasn’t too up on hotel policy; he looked pretty new. He did confirm that three of his four friends had arrived but he wasn’t sure if he should give out their room numbers.
“That’s all right,” Tony said, “It’s just as well. They’ll be
sleeping now.” They wouldn’t be meeting until eight p.m. tomorrow, and he certainly wouldn’t be seeing them at Continental breakfast. He was pooped, and he would probably sleep through until the afternoon. It wasn’t just the whole coming out here thing, but that incredibly weird night with Iris. What was he thinking? He supposed he’d needed someone, anyone. He’d used her, which wasn’t like him. There was nothing he could do about it now, until he got back. He checked in and went to bed.
6
He’d thought he could handle it; Johnny was a big man. But when he got out of the car on the East side and approached the fence like a man possessed, he felt sick. There it was- the sign. A bit dirtier and dented in places, but it bore the same message: JEREMIAH’S WOODS NO ONE ADMITTED TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED. This is the way they’d all come in for the first time together.
Johnny’s stomach rolled and he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the sign and the wide field leading to the woods beyond. Queasiness and nausea rose in his throat, and then it all spilled over. He vomited on the sidewalk in front of the sign, with the door of his rental car across the street, still open, ignition running.
“Aww fuck! Jesus!” he smacked his leg, furious, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m coming back for you fucker!” he said indignantly to the sign. He strode back to his car, and drove off toward the hotel.
CHAPTER SIX
THE MISSING
(1959-2014)
I
1959
Samantha Stone and Fulton Blake were married, although neither of their families had attended the wedding. Their daughter Vivien was born. The newlyweds moved in together and cared for the child, and whatever disappointments their parents had with them seemed to melt away when they first saw the child. Such a beautiful baby girl was Vivien. Both mothers and fathers agreed to swap babysitting duties so the couple could work to provide for their baby. It was an amazing turnaround and Samantha and Fulton couldn’t have been happier. Eventually Fulton would make enough money so Samantha wouldn’t have to work, and could be home more for Vivien, to watch her grow up and to be the kind of nurturer she wanted to be.
II
1981
1
Before the worst of it, there was Vivien, the bright shining light in his life, and his lovely wife Samantha. Fulton Blake turned forty this year, and his daughter Vivien, who’d just come back from college, was twenty-two. She’d graduated with a bachelor in psychology from the University of Maine, and was home to celebrate, and to eventually start circulating her resume. She hoped to someday own
her own practice.
His daughter was all of a woman now with dark flowing hair and even darker eyes. She’d taken very good care of herself and was the picture of health and youthful exuberance, slim and eternally peppy. She greeted her parents with massive hugs that were nearly bone crushing.
“Wow! Hey! I might need my back for a few more years!” Fulton said.
“Sorry,” Vivien laughed. “I’m just so happy to see you guys!”
“We’re happy to see you too,” Samantha said. “I thought you were going to call us when you got to the airport.”
“Yeah, I know. I thought I’d take a cab here and surprise you guys.”
“Well, you certainly did,” Blake said. “Leave your bags at the door, we’ll get them later. “Come on over to the living room and let’s sit. You must be tired.”
“Yes!” Vivien agreed, “I’m pooped.”
“No one could ever tell,” Samantha said. “Would you like a drink, something to eat?”
“No, not yet,” Vivien said. “I’ll just go get some water. Really guys, I know where everything is.” She went to the refrigerator and poured herself a glass, and turned to see her parents grinning and staring at her. She had to stifle a giggle.
“Didn’t you guys see me like three days ago at graduation?”
“Yes,” Blake said, “For all of three hours after the ceremony. We haven’t really seen you in at least two years.”
“Yeah, that Christmas was a blast. I’ve missed you guys too.”
“I know,” Samantha said, rubbing her lower back, “I can still feel how happy you are to see us.”
“It’s not my fault you guys are wimps.” She walked over to the living room sofa with them. “I might go out with Jen and Carla later, after dinner. I’m going to call them in a bit.”
“So soon?” Samantha said, “Don’t you want to spend your first night at home?”
“I’ll still be spending it at home. I’m just going out with my
friends to catch up. I promised them.”
“All right,” her mother ceded. “But don’t be out too late.”
“Midnight, one a.m. max, I promise.” She looked at their frowns of disappointment, and added, “I’m going to be here for at least a month while I look for work. I may even find something close where I can visit you guys all the time after I move out.”
Samantha nodded, “Okay. So tell us, how’ve you been?”
“Great!” she said, and the talking went on for hours after that.
2
Even after dinner Vivien hadn’t yet begun to unpack. She made quick calls to her friends and they decided they were going to see a movie, and then probably just sit around at the coffee shop and yap about pretty much everything. Vivien had never felt surer of herself, or more alive. She was pleasantly, gratefully happy. Soon she would be moving on, getting her own place, a new job, possibly living in a new city. The prospects were endless. Sadly, fate chose another path for her.
That night she did go out with her friends. The movie that was playing was The Howling. She and Jennifer loved horror movies; Carla only sort of liked them. She was more of an action flick or romance type of girl, but she wasn’t bothered tonight. She was just glad to have her friend home. It turned out to be a really good werewolf movie.
As they exited they were laughing and giddy, reminiscing about the movie and its more memorable scenes, then about themselves. They drove over to the coffee shop and had several cups of coffee while they talked and talked. Vivien wasn’t sure how she would get to sleep tonight, but it didn’t matter.
They were the last patrons to leave The Coffee Cup. Theirs was the only car in the tiny dimly lit parking lot; really just a cement block with lines drawn on it. The employees must have special parking in the back, Vivie
n thought. There were three men outside, possibly a hundred feet away, smoking and talking at the end of the parking lot. They stopped as if sensing them, their heads raised.
Vivien thought at least two of them were cute. They looked as if they were in their twenties. One was wearing a long brown trench coat, the other two leather jackets. It was rather hot for their attire but they seemed unbothered by it. Vivien was a health nut, so the smoking was a turn off. Otherwise, she might have actually flirted with them. She was no introvert, but approaching boys wasn’t exactly her strength, although being around her friends sometimes made her bolder. Vivien had no trouble getting boys to approach her.
Looking at Jen and Carla she could see they were on the same page. They weren’t quite as health conscious as she was, but they’d decided neither of them wanted to kiss smoke-stinky breath boys either. The men tossed their butts and ground them down with their boots, and began to walk toward them in a single horizontal line, side by side, as if some mental command or imperative were being followed, their heads lowered, but eyes intent on the prize.
“Oh oh,” Carla said.
Jen agreed. “I don’t like this. You think we should see what they want?”
“I vote no,” Vivien said.
Jen was driving. She said, “Get in the car.”
She didn’t have an electric door lock and had to reach over to pull up the lock on the passenger front and back doors as she sat down.
“Hurry up!” Vivien said, jumping up and down in front of the passenger door. Carla was shaking. The boys were gaining. Little did they suspect that these “boys” could have run and snatched Jen before she’d ever reached the door. But they were walking faster, grinning now. As Carla and Vivien finally got in, the men broke into a gleeful run, surrounding the car.
Jen fumbled for the keys as the guy in the trench leapt onto the hood of her car in a crouch, his boots making a hollow thump, and bending it inward under his heels. He waggled his finger from side to
side, and shook his head no. “Ah ah ah.”
He smashed his fist through the windshield. They screamed. The keys dropped beneath the front seat and the spray of glass was a vicious hailstorm. They reflexively shut their eyes against the shrapnel, the pieces cutting and drawing blood. Jen was grabbed by the throat and lifted out of the car through the opening.
Vivien sat, numb with shock and the dozens of cuts that stung her face and body. She was sure there was glass in her skin, as well as her hair and piercing clothing, but she couldn’t move. Carla, however, made a valiant attempt to escape from the backseat, opening the door and running. One of the others pounced on her, driving a fist into her face, mashing forehead, nose and teeth inward, and coming out the back of her head. Both fist and head met cement. Vivien was fortunate enough not to turn and see this.
The vampire tore his fist away from the hollowed out head, and exclaimed “Oy! That bloody hurt! Fucking O!” in somewhat cockneyed English. Trench coat was still holding Jennifer by the throat. He’d dragged her onto the car’s hood and was holding her up to meet his gaze. Jen stared in horror at his eyes, which were glowing with a flickering amber light, and at his teeth, sharp and menacing. For one crazy moment she thinks Oh my God, he’s a werewolf, just like in the movie.
“Worthless worm,” he said. “I shall consider whether your blood is even worthy enough to drink after I kill you.”
The third vampire tore off the passenger side door with one hand and threw it aside, grabbing Vivien’s arm with the other, and dragging her out. She screamed, “No, no!” and struggled against him.
Trench coat looked into Jen’s fear filled eyes a second longer before he laid his other hand on her forehead, and snapped her neck back with a loud crunch. He tossed her aside; much like the other had done to the passenger door a moment earlier.
“Look boss, look,” the other one was saying to him now. He had the other girl in front of him, grabbing her from behind by both arms as she continued to struggle. “Isn’t she a beaut?”
The one in the trench coat looked her up and down. He
jumped off the hood of the car to inspect her more closely. Vivien spat in his face. He smiled and wiped the spittle off. “I like this one.”
“Should we turn her?”
He looked up to the sky, considering.
“Yesssss,” he hissed. “I believe Marcus will like her.”
And they flew off with her into the night.
The attack happened in a matter of two minutes; just enough time for the last two employees at the Coffee Cup to respond to the screams and the breaking glass, and walk out into the parking lot to find the shattered windshield, torn off car door, and the bodies.
3
It was a quarter past one when Fulton began to worry. “She’s still not back yet.” They were getting ready for bed, hoping they’d get to say goodnight to their daughter.
“Well, she could just be a little late,” Samantha said. “She’ll probably walk in any minute.” But she sounded unsure.
“She would have called if she was going to be late,” Fulton said.
“Yes, that’s true. Maybe we should try to call Jen’s house.”
“I’ll do that.” He went to the phone in the kitchen and dialed the number. Her roommate answered. No, Jen wasn’t home yet, she said. He hung up. They waited half an hour before they dialed 911. Neither of them would sleep that night.
4
All Vivien could think about was her parents and what they must be going through, and her friends who were brutally murdered. They kept her locked up in a cage for days, feeding her scraps they picked up above ground. She inspected each meal carefully and found nothing suspect. She knew she was only here for their amusement. They wanted her to cry and beg for her life. The first day she had, and
quickly learned not to give them that satisfaction. When the time
came she would fight them with all her might. Take a few of them down with her if she could. There were at least a dozen that she’d seen coming and going, but she suspected there were more of them. Vivien knew she was underground somewhere, some sort of cave system. She suspected she was inside the pit everyone talked about.
She listened closely and knew a few of their names. The ones who had abducted her from the parking lot were Edward (the guy in the trench coat); Walter (the British guy), and James. She’d also seen an Arianna, a woman who would have made a stunning Italian model if she weren’t evil (or at least more evil than your average model). There were two other Italians, men, Marcus and Lucio. Marcus seemed to be their leader. Despite being vampires they seemed to have their own rather human little cliques down here. There was Rusty Spangler, a dirty trash talking hillbilly type that none of them seemed to like. He’d come down and watch her with his pervy looks, licking his lips, as if he was ready to rape her, eat her, or kill her, and would be thrilled with any, or all of, the above. There was one they called Misty, a short haired blonde girl who appeared, like her namesake, as if she were in a perpetual haze, and not quite there. She often spoke in a slur; perhaps too much pre-vampire partying with her sorority sisters had caused some permanent damage.
And these were just some of the ones she’d caught in passing. It felt like she’d been here four days now, although it may have been three. It was difficult to gauge the passage of time down here. Vivien slept when she was tired, and ate when she was hungry. Soon, within the next few days they would be coming for her, to turn her into one of them, or to kill her. It would all soon be over, one way or another.
5
Vivien Blake was just the first of the missing. In the next few months there would be more disappearances, mostly twenty to thirty year olds. Some bodies would be found; some never would be. By
then Vivien was one of the undead, searching for prey herself, for
those to kill, and those to turn. The vampires of this loose lot found a home here in Mercy Falls; underground; and they found purpose. These were the new vampires, not solitary or runnin
g in small packs as in the days of old. They were family, as dysfunctional as they might be. Of course where they went, The Others followed, wreaking their own brand of havoc, threatening to expose them with bolder and bolder attacks; destabilizing the new vampire’s existence in its self-imposed darkness. While they continued to operate covertly, and The Others did as they pleased, they were both often forced into a shaky truce so that both clans could go on feeding.
The day Vivien was turned she had been all about family- the ones who had brought her into the world, flesh and bone. But she would be reborn into this new world, one where humanity was just another step down on the food chain.
6
Three of them came for her. Rusty Spangler, the Brit Walter, and the one named Misty. It seemed they’d sent the rejects to collect her. Big mistake.
When they opened the door to Vivien’s cell she kicked Spangler in the shin, and grabbed Misty by her short hair.
Walter backed up. “Fuckin’ O! What’s this?!”
Before Vivien could bolt Walter grabbed her hair and yanked her back forcibly. She screeched, feeling like her scalp was on fire, as if each and every strand was being torn out at the root. He spun Vivien around and punched her in the face. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she fell backwards unconscious.
“Fuckin’ bitch!” Rusty exclaimed, “She kicked me in the shin! That fuckin’ hurt!” He hauled back and kicked her in the side where she lay. Vivien yelped and jumped but didn’t wake.
“Oh, suck it up mate,” Walter said.
“Fuck you, you backwater Brit!” Rusty said.
Walter grinned, “Backwater Brit, I like that, you hillbilly
wanker.”
Rusty wasn’t sure what a wanker was, but since Walter’s tone sounded complimentary he let it go.
“She’s a feisty little runt ain’t she?” Walter added. “I like her!”
The Pit in the Woods: A Mercy Falls Mythos Page 26