The Pit in the Woods: A Mercy Falls Mythos

by Nathaniel Reed

  “Why would we not have our ID on us? No one puts it in their luggage. And they couldn’t have lost both our bags.”

  “We packed one big bag. All our stuff was together.”

  “But why the IDs in the luggage?”

  “I don’t think they’ll ask as many questions as you are. They just want your money. Trust me, I’ve done this before.”

  “All right, all right.”

  “We still have to look out for our friend though.”

  “Mr. Vampyro.”

  “Yes. Can you still feel him?”

  “I feel that he’s alive. Not close though… I don’t think.”

  “You don’t think? You mean you’re not sure?”

  “Sorry, I’m new at this,” Eve said.

  “Some develop it, some don’t.”

  “This radar thing?”

  “Yes. You can sense his presence, but not his proximity?”

  “You Brits are so wordy.”

  Blake cracked a smile. He looked to his left and pointed at a lit building about ten blocks away, “There, that’s a motel. We’ll park a bit up ahead where there are few lights.”

  “Maybe you should speed it up a little, like before.”

  “Before we were escaping. Now we’re trying not to draw attention to ourselves. Nothing attracts cops like a speeding car.”

  “I’m more afraid our slo mo auto will attract Mr. Vampyro, more than the po po.”

  “Yes, well, that can’t be helped. Perhaps you should grab a weapon.”

  5

  It turned out Mr. Vampyro was not far behind. In fact he was now in front of them, flying toward the open windshield.

  Blake was startled. Focused on the motel up ahead, he did not reach for his crossbow in time. Fortunately Eve had her gun raised and ready. The vampire, broken off arrow point protruding from his throat and all, his neck crimson with fresh blood, now added a bullet hole in the forehead to his list of injuries. He fell to the curb. Blake stopped the car, brakes screeching.

  “What are you doing?!” Eve said.

  “Finishing this.” Blake opened the door, crossbow in hand and stepped out into the middle of the street, where he’d parked on the center line.

  Eve’s mouth opened wide, for a moment forgetting that he was a seventy-three year old man, as she watched him purposefully stride toward the vampire cursing and wriggling on his back on the pavement. No anxiety, no fear. She could barely see from where she sat in the car. But she imagined the look of panic on the vampire’s face, hissing as Blake towered over him. Legs spread, trench coat blowing in the breeze, he pointed the crossbow downward, and shot the unholy creature in the chest. It wriggled one last time, making a spasmodic twitch, before expiring.

  In the days, and weeks, and months to come, they would continue on the run, leaving Blake’s humble little apartment behind. They couldn’t go far from town, because they needed to find Eve’s sire (a fancy, undeserving word for the one who’d turned her). Some vampires followed, which they fought and conquered, each time more prepared. It amazed Eve how efficient and unafraid Blake was. Even when they were both at their best, Eve still feared them.

  They followed the news. The police eventually concluded Blake had met with some foul play and was written off as missing. Eve was never known to be living with him, and his neighbor had apparently kept quiet. No reports of a body on the lawn that

  spontaneously combusted once sunlight hit it. The reports told them

  more by their omissions than what was on the written page, or the TV news.

  The last battle, outside a motel was the one that nearly did Blake in. He collapsed, in a faint, gasping for air. The vampire nearly had him, but Eve finished him off. There would be no more running. She had to drive Blake’s car, and rush him to the hospital. It was there he was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy (congestive heart failure). There were questions he couldn’t and wouldn’t answer, and they didn’t matter. He was dying. Eve tried to keep her visits to a minimum. Although there was no relationship established with his case, she was still considered a missing person. The last thing they needed was someone recognizing her. As far as the hospital knew she was his granddaughter, and the police knew nothing. Eve wanted to keep it that way. To think Blake, the great vampire hunter would be felled by a heart attack was inconceivable to her. She would no longer be able to rely on him to supply her with fresh blood, or to be there to help her through her worst hunger pains. It’d been months now she’d held on, and her will was getting weaker. But she had to hold on, now more than ever. She couldn’t disappoint Blake, who’d done so much for her, on his deathbed. If he died and she gave in, that was one thing. But if he lived to see her change into one of those creatures entirely, that would be too much for him to bear.

  “Eve,” he said, during one night visit, holding her hand as she stood by his bedside. “Pull up a chair, it’s time.”

  “Time?” Her eyes widened.

  “No, not that,” he smiled. “I’ve still got some fight in me left. I promised I’d tell you not only who I’d lost, but how. It’s time you should know the story, for it informs me as a man, why I must do what I do.”

  She pulled up a chair and sat, listening intently. “Tell me Blake. Tell me everything.”

  He did, and Eve was even more amazed by him. “My God, to have suffered so much. How did you go on?”

  “I went on, not because I felt that I could, but because I knew

  that I had to; for them.”

  Eve was dumbfounded. “….Blake, I’m so sorry.”

  “As am I. Sad to say this monster hunting has become an obsession.”

  “An understandable one,” Eve said.

  “But an obsession nonetheless.”

  She touched his hand. “You should get some sleep. You look tired.”

  “I’ve been tired for a long time my dear.” Blake looked at her weary-eyed. “It’s just now catching up with me.”

  III

  October 2014

  1

  The quiet was killing her. Staci had to turn on the TV. She wondered if any of the others had met up. It was six p.m. now. It was only two hours away until the official gathering in the lobby restaurant. She assumed Jeremy had arranged to reserve a private hall there, when in actuality Blake himself had arranged it through Eve, who Staci was still unaware of. But Staci was a married woman, she would tell herself later. Why should another woman’s interest in Jeremy, someone she hadn’t seen in twenty-eight years, give or take, bother her?

  Some stupid game show was on. Not one of the good ones like Price Is Right or Wheel of Fortune, but one of those with a stupid theme like Who Did You Date Last Night? Or Win Big Bucks With Uncle Chuck. She had no idea; she just needed the background noise for distraction. Staci practically looked through the TV as she sat in the King size hotel bed, propped up by massive pillows.

  She began to doze off only to wake up to the sound of a woman screaming. She looked left and right, disoriented, only to realize the sound was coming from the television directly in front of her. One of those creature features from the 50s was playing, possibly Creature from the Black Lagoon. Something amphibious appeared to be after the girl, at any rate. Staci shook her head, shaking the drowsiness away. She got up to make a pot of coffee, and looked at the alarm clock. It said 7:17.

  “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

  Good thing the movie had woke her up. She was more nervous than ever about seeing the others again. She didn’t know what she was so anxious about. They were all friends. Granted they hadn’t seen each other in ages.

  Get a grip Staci, get a grip. Everything’s going to be all right. It’ll be just like old times. Somehow that wasn’t exactly comforting.

  2

  Myron wasn’t worried for himself anymore. He was actually just excited about the prospect of seeing his friends again, albeit not under the best of circumstances. He was worried about his wife and kids. Not only that he knew how worried they’d be (and t
hey had every reason to worry), but that she’d actually threatened to come up here. He knew she was fully capable; she was a strong-willed woman. It was one of the reasons he’d married her. Myron had enough on his plate worrying about his friends and himself, to have to worry about his family’s safety.

  His mouth was parched just thinking about it, but all he had in the room was hot soda. He’d have to go down and get some ice. It was about 7:23 when Myron left his room.

  3

  “God, this is bullshit Lori!” Johnny shouted, “I want to see my kid!”

  There was silence on the other end of the line.

  “Hello?” Johnny yelled into his cell phone.

  “I’m here,” Lori said.

  “Why can’t I schedule one or two days next month to see my kid? I KNEW I should have fought for custody.”

  “You’re never around Johnny! I mean, where are you now? Massachusetts? Besides, you’re a lousy father!”

  “C’mon, that’s not fair. Cody likes it when I’m around. We hang out, we have fun.”

  “Yeah, ’cause you’re like his best bud. He doesn’t need another friend, he needs his dad! Someone who’s going to be around for the important things, not to just squeeze him into your schedule.”

  “FINE! Forget it! I’ll just drop in then, unannounced! ’Cause that seems to be the only way I’ll ever get to see my kid! Jesus, I know I fucked up with us, but don’t take it out on Cody! I mean going to see him once in a while is better than not at all, right?”

  “Right, but you’ll never understand Johnny. It’s not the quantity…”

  “…but the quality of the time spent. Yeah, I know. You sound like Dr. Phil when you say that.”

  “We’ll see Johnny, okay? Maybe if you could come up for Thanksgiving break.”

  “Done.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  “Don’t flake out on me Johnny.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Okay. Talk to you later?”

  “Yeah, later. Bye.” He disconnected, which was something he seemed to do often. He looked at the clock. It was 7:28.

  4

  It was dark out already, as the northern states tended to be

  this time of year, about six p.m. most days, earlier on some. Tony

  didn’t mind it that much. It seemed more peaceful now, somehow;

  quiet. It eased his mind, and made him think less of the drama back home, and the perils to come. Thoughts of his friend Eric, whose wife was cheating on him, and Iris, who he’d inappropriately had “relations” with, were far in the back of his mind now. Instead he thought of how he and his high school friends had met, and of Max and his posse. The Dragons! He hadn’t thought of them in ages, even longer than his friends. Last he knew of Max and the Dragons they’d become lunch for the vampires. They hadn’t had to worry about them anymore after that. It was probably wrong to be happy about anyone being killed by those creatures, but it had certainly been a relief not to have to deal with them again. He wanted his friends safe, and he couldn’t wait to see them again.

  5

  Jeremy Daniels was the first to head downstairs. He was in a sense the host. Eve would be meeting them all later that night. He had to explain the situation to them first, get them used to the idea of sitting amongst a vampire. Of course, he’d already told Myron and Johnny some of it. Actually, he wasn’t entirely sure who he’d told what, so he’d have to start from the beginning, with his first meeting with Eve, and eventually to what was going on with Blake, and in the town.

  For now he sat alone in the empty hall at the head of a long polished oak table, the place settings out, the food to come later. There was a lush garden landscape surrounding the dining hall, including a tranquil koi pond across from them, lit by a simple row of low key bulbs. It was quiet now, but in ten minutes or so the hall would begin to fill with voices, their destinies to be made clear once again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BETTY PART II

  (1986)

  1

  Staci answered the door. The paramedics came in with a stretcher, quickly followed by police. John, Jeremy, and Staci had stayed with Betty’s mother, and now they were seeing her off. Tony and Myron were in the backseat of the car waiting about six blocks down, parked between street lamps, so little light hit the vehicle. Betty was between them in the shadows, crying.

  There were questions. The three that stayed behind gave the answers they’d agreed on: They’d come back to check on the girl. They found the mother on the kitchen floor bleeding; they didn’t know anything yet about the father (Of course, Tony had actually seen that he was dead upstairs). Betty appeared to be gone. They’d called out for her and she wasn’t answering. That was the story.

  Outside in Tony’s car Myron was catching the misery coming off Betty in waves. She’d probably killed her mother, had killed her father (or at least had some part in his death), and it was all way too much for her fragile mind to conceive. All he could do was hug her to him. Eventually the others got done with their statements and found Tony’s car.

  “How is she?” Tony asked.

  “Alive,” Johnny said, “Barely. The ambulance just took off.”

  Betty shuddered. “I want to go home.”

  Staci leaned in to the vehicle, caressing her face, “We can’t go home now sweetie. You have to come with us right now, where it’s safe.” She knew what they all knew. She’d never go home again.

  “Where are we taking her?” Myron asked.

  “I don’t know,” Staci said truthfully.

  “Don’t know how any of us would explain this to our parents,” Johnny said. “Especially after the story we just gave the police.”

  “Tony’s would probably be the best place,” Jeremy said.

  “What? Mine?” Tony asked. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because your parents would be the most understanding, and probably wouldn’t ask as many questions. Anyway, you weren’t in the house with us when we gave the statement.”

  Tony nodded. “They’ll still want to know.”

  “What about the shed?” Johnny offered.

  “The shed? What about…” Tony’s eyes opened in surprise. “You’re not saying I should lock her in the shed?”

  “Oh God, Johnny!” Staci said.

  “Well, what else do you propose? At least she’ll be hidden.”

  “I propose all of us get in the car and get moving, before we stick out like sore thumbs out here,” Myron said.

  “Yeah, he’s right,” Jeremy agreed. Tony moved to the driver’s seat, and Myron scooted over in the backseat; Staci and Jeremy getting in with Betty between them. Johnny rode shotgun again.

  “Let’s think about this for a minute,” Tony said, as he pulled off the curb.

  “Where are we going?” Betty asked, shivering between Jeremy and Staci.

  “We don’t know yet sweetie,” Staci said, hugging her, “But we’ll figure it out.”

  It turned out that the shed was the only place they could all think of where she’d be even remotely safe. But how would they convince Betty?

  2

  They arrived at Tony’s house, and all the lights were out. His parents had gone to sleep. That was good. They used the back gate to go into his backyard. Tony unlocked the padlock on the shed.

  “Betty?” he whispered. “You understand why we’re doing this?”

  She nodded, sniffling, “So I don’ hurt no one like Mama and

  Papa.”

  Staci was on the verge of tears herself. What kind of monster would turn this poor, innocent, defenseless girl into one of them? They had no idea whether the shed would hold her should she decide to break free, but it was all they could do.

  “You have to be real quiet okay?” Myron said, “Until we come get you in the morning.”

  “Somebody has to keep watch over her,” Jeremy said. “We can’t just leave her here all night alone. What if…?”

  “What if som
ething happens?” Tony finished for him. “I’ll stay out here with her.”

  “You can’t,” Johnny said. “They’re going to be expecting you to be in your bed in the morning. If your parents find you gone they’ll freak.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Tony said.

  “I’ll watch her,” Johnny offered.

  “Are you sure?”

  Johnny nodded. “Have to redeem myself somehow, right?”

  Though saddened by that statement, no one said anything.

  If anyone has to die, it should be me. I’m the expendable one, Jeremy heard him think.

  Jeremy stared at him, and Johnny knew he’d heard. While Jeremy didn’t agree with this assessment he understood it was something he had to do.

  “All right,” Johnny said. “Everybody go home, get some sleep. I’ll be okay.”

  He looked at Betty. “We’ll be okay.”

  3

  The night went by slowly. Johnny sat on the ground with his back against the padlocked door to the shed. Betty sobbed inside. They’d laid out blankets for her on the wood floor. Johnny wasn’t quite sure what to say to her. He wasn’t exactly the type of person who was equipped to deal with sad little girls. He figured if she wanted to talk she would. She didn’t. At one point he heard her praying softly to herself. He couldn’t make out what she was saying but he heard the words Mama and Papa. The poor thing. He couldn’t imagine what this girl must be going through. Until now he thought the guilt over his own situation was horrible. What would it be like to be responsible, not for the death of a stranger, but your own parents?

  There were times throughout the night when Johnny started to nod off, but it only lasted as long as a minute. Each time he’d shake his head, and shake himself awake. At some point near dawn he heard Betty breathing deeply and knew she was asleep, and fell into his own slumber.

  4