The Thing in the Woods

by Matthew W. Quinn

  Maad sighed in relief. James knew his parents. He’d have gotten in trouble for any fight regardless of who started it. They probably thought Georgia Tech would rescind his acceptance if the cops were ever called on him, even if the charges didn’t stick.

  “You think we should just sit here and take their shit?” Bill demanded. “This is our town, not theirs. When gas goes back up again, they’ll all move out, but we’ll still be here.”

  Tommy smiled. “I’ve got a better idea.” He turned and looked James straight in the eye. James' breath caught in his throat, but he didn't lower his eyes. “I bet you Atlanta folk think you can do anything better than we can. Care to prove it?”

  “Sure,” Alex said. James suppressed the urge to groan. What sort of pissing contest was the idiot going to get them into?

  “Well then,” Tommy said. “There’s a big patch of cleared land down on Newnan Road, past Johnson Drive. They were going to make it one of those new neighborhoods, but when the recession came the money fell through. They did cut a long-ass road through it.”

  Bill tensed. “That’s down by the tree farm, isn’t it?” He looked at Tommy. “What do you want to do down there?”

  James narrowed his eyes. Something about that property had the belligerent asshole all spooked. Maybe that was where some of the older dropouts cooked meth. This was a small town, after all.

  “Bill and I both have ATVs,” Tommy continued. “Us three and a friend of mine will race the four of you. Tomorrow, four o’clock.”

  “It’s on,” Alex said triumphantly. “You’re not on the only one with an ATV.” Alex looked over at Maad and Katie. James’ eyes widened slightly. Did Alex think they’d really go along with this?

  “The tree farm would be private land, would it not?” Maad asked. He did not look enthusiastic in the slightest. “You want to get us all arrested for trespassing?”

  Tommy snorted. “There’s plenty of empty land between that neighborhood and the tree farm. Besides, even if we do get into the tree farm, who’s gonna know we were there? It’s not like it’s guarded.” He looked straight at Maad, ignoring Bill’s uneasy expression. “Come on. They won't kick you out of Georgia Tech over something like this.”

  Maad swallowed. “All right.” After a moment, Katie nodded.

  Then everyone’s gazes fell on James.

  James tensed. He really didn’t want to get into another pissing contest with the locals, especially not Saturday when he’d planned to see if Eli wanted to play paintball. Less than a hundred days until he could walk away from this shithole. He’d be meeting these yahoos on their own ground, away from any friendly witnesses. Dad would think this a really stupid idea and for the first time since he’d dragged the family to Edington, he’d be right about something.

  On the other hand, he’d be damned if he looked like a pussy in front of these morons and his own friends. Even Alex. For a moment he was tempted to claim he had to work. Let Alex deal with the situation his big mouth had gotten them all into.

  Then he looked at Maad and Katie. They were going along with this idiocy, however reluctantly. They’d go with Alex toward what Dad called a “pipe farm” and the tree farm beyond that, for a dangerous race or—quite possibly—a beat-down from a bunch of belligerent rednecks.

  James scowled. He wasn’t going to puss out on Maad and Katie at least. And if all four of them showed up, maybe Tommy and Bill would think better about picking a fight. His gaze crept over to Bill. He’d need to keep an eye on that redneck especially.

  James tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. “Tomorrow’s not going to be your lucky day. I’m in.”

  Tommy grinned, crooked teeth white in his hatchet face. “Good to know you can come. Y’all best be practicing.”

  “Oh we will,” Alex said.

  James resisted the urge to groan.

  Chapter Five

  The bright afternoon sun lit up the blue sky as James set off for the ATV race. Mom was at the bookstore and Dad was off on errands somewhere, so he’d left a note saying where he’d be. He could have called or texted, but better to ask forgiveness than permission. And he’d be eighteen soon anyway—it wasn’t like he needed to worry about “stranger danger” just leaving the house.

  Getting to the “pipe farm” was easy at first. Newnan Road was a four-lane straight shot east out of town, past where Maad’s folks lived and where Karen said Amber lived. There was one turn, drive another couple miles, and turn again.

  The second turn took James down a long two-lane road. No strip malls here, or even gas stations. Only a few shabby old houses that got fewer and farther between as he drove deeper into the woods. The towering trees pressed against the road from both sides, their roots sometimes pushing through gaps in the concrete curbs. Their canopies arched overhead, blocking out the sun for long stretches. At one point, James passed over an iron bridge soaked with bloody rust spanning a slow, dark creek.

  Son of a bitch. I can already hear the banjos.

  For a moment he thought about turning back. It wouldn’t be hard to say he had to cover for someone else at Best Buy at the last minute. It’s not like Tommy and Bill would actually check. Hell, he could say his parents learned what he was doing and grounded him. That’s what they always told him to say if someone tried to get him to do something stupid, like smoke weed.

  He snorted. He wasn’t going to get shown up by some stupid rednecks. Disappearing would give them just the opening to rag his ass until the day he left. And then they’d take credit for him leaving. And there was no way he was going leave Maad and Katie alone with them. And Alex too, even though the whole situation was that idiot’s fault.

  He’d check to make sure Maad and Katie were actually there, of course. He picked up his phone. He’d call Maad. Maybe he’d decided to skip out and take Katie with him. Knowing some of these people that’d be a really good idea.

  Only one bar. Shit. Out here in the sticks, his signal would be crap. He gave it a try anyway. The call went straight to voicemail. Well shit. Maad’s parents made him put away even more money for college than James had to pay Dad, so it wasn’t like he had a top of the line phone to start with.

  Up ahead, just past an old wooden shotgun house whose collapsed roof teemed with ivy and even a tiny pine tree, the road turned to gravel. James swallowed. Yep. Deliverance country for sure. He turned on the radio and switched it to his favorite classic-rock station. A little bit of Guns and Roses would lighten the mood. He frowned. It just had to be “Welcome to the Jungle,” didn’t it?

  After a hundred yards, the road turned back into asphalt. The forest stopped abruptly after another dozen yards. The sudden brightness after so long in the gloom stabbed at James’ eyes. He squinted, slowing down in case something got in his way.

  The road ahead snaked into a mostly-cleared area. White plastic pipes rose from amid tall green grass and even spindly young pines. That must be why the “pipe farm” got its name. But where were the others? The unwanted image of Maad hanging from a tree rose into his mind.

  He found the others soon enough, at a cul-de-sac mere yards from where the far end of the aborted subdivision opened onto a larger road cutting through another set of woods.

  Why the hell didn’t they tell me to go in that end? I could’ve avoided this whole adventure entirely.

  It had to be a trick. They probably had him go in that way to mess with his head. Clever. It had to have been Tommy’s idea; James doubted Bill much appreciated “book learning.” Redneck psychological warfare.

  Alex, Maad, and Katie were already there, nearly clinging to Alex’s shiny green Cadillac in the middle of the cracked asphalt. And unfortunately, so were Tommy, Bill, Sarah, and some black kid James didn’t know. They stood near a gigantic—if somewhat dented in places—pickup truck. Behind it lay an equally large trailer bearing two banged-up ATVs. All four locals wore camo. James cocked his head. Given how these losers acted toward Maad and Katie, he’d figured they had a bunch of white r
obes in their closets.

  Of course, everybody says one of their best friends is black.

  Maad’s gaze fell on James as he drove up. The relief on his dark face was obvious. He must’ve been waiting for a beat-down the whole time.

  James pulled his car between his friends and the locals. Tommy approached as he climbed out. “Took you long enough.” He spat on the wet ground. “I was wondering if maybe you’d pussed out after all.” That drew a glare from Sarah, which Tommy ignored. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint Bill here.”

  “I wouldn’t either.” James was getting sick and tired of the chips these losers were carrying around on their shoulders. He’d teach that jackass a lesson in manners. “So where’re we going to race?”

  “Y’all follow me,” Tommy ordered. He pointed to a gap in the thick pine trees just beyond the pickup truck. James followed, with Alex, Maad, and Katie trailing behind. It was more than a little bit warm in his blue Tarheels sweatshirt, but he resisted the urge to take it off. Once they got rolling, it would get chilly real quick.

  “All right,” Tommy said. “You and Bill are going first. He”—he pointed to Alex—“and I will race next. Sarah’s not in any condition to participate, but she’s raced this way before and I can compare Katie here’s time against hers. Last’ll be Gracen and…” His voice trailed off. He looked at Maad “What was your name again?”

  “Maad.” The Indian’s response was like the crack of a gunshot, but James doubted Tommy knew or cared just how irritated Maad was. Tommy just nodded.

  Of course you’d pair off the only non-whites. Don’t want to lose to Kumar, do you?

  Bill hopped onto the black metal trailer and then the ATV. James climbed up behind him. He had barely gotten onto his ATV and put on the helmet hanging from the handlebars when Bill’s engine roared loud beside him.

  James looked down at the pebbled handlebars. It had been a long time since he’d ridden an ATV.

  “All right,” Bill said. “Can you turn it on, or do you need me to do it?” James ground his teeth at the insult in the redneck’s voice. He could do it himself, thank you very much.

  “Hold on.” There was a big red button on the right handlebar. That looked like it’d start the damn thing. He pressed the button. Nothing happened.

  Shit! He pressed the button harder. Maybe this was one of things one had to press the button a bunch of times fast, or maybe hold it down. Maybe it was like Dad’s goddamn leaf blower and its choke—

  Bill snorted. “Okay, quit that. You’ll mess it up.” James sighed. He hated to admit it, but Bill probably was better with the ATV. “You’ve got to turn the brake on. It’s a safety feature.” Bill smiled coldly. “Wouldn’t want you to go flying off and end this race before I beat you.” Bill peered at James’ handlebars. “It’s already in neutral, and the engine kill switch is off. That’s good. The choke’s engaged.”

  “Okay.”

  Bill sighed, leaned over and clicked some things on the handlebars. The rear brake lights flared red. “Now press the button.” James pressed the button. The engine roared to life. “Now disengage the choke!” Bill shouted over the thundering engine. “It’ll stall!” James looked at the handlebars. Lawnmowers had chokes, but he didn’t see anything like one. He could feel his cheeks turning red. He’d lose the race before he’d even started. Everyone would laugh at him…

  Bill sighed. “Pull the damn lever right!”

  James did so. The engine rumbled like it should. He sighed in relief, hoping Bill didn’t see him. The local gave no sign, instead slowly rolling off the trailer toward the woods. After a moment, James followed, keeping the acceleration to a minimum. He didn’t want to make the kind of mistake that could put him in the hospital, or for that matter, the morgue.

  Bill circled the cul-de-sac, with James trailing behind. The others followed on foot, Tommy and Alex watching the most eagerly of all. Maad and Katie—and surprisingly, Gracen—still hung back. Bill led them toward a lot where the grass and baby trees were thinnest. Ahead lay a gravel path that the dark woods soon swallowed whole.

  “Okay everybody,” Tommy shouted over the growling engines. “Bill’s more familiar with the terrain hereabouts, so he’ll describe the route.”

  Bill cleared his throat. “All right.” A moment passed. Then he started speaking quickly. “Go straight ahead as the crow flies until you hit the fence. That’s the edge of the tree farm. We’re not trespassing there. Go right and drive until you see a footbridge over the creek. Cross it. Go until you find the hunting blind. Some of the folk who hunt here don’t pick up after themselves. Find something they left and bring it here. First one wins.”

  Something was definitely eating at him. A quick glance showed that Gracen kept looking at the woods, then looking away. Only Tommy and Alex seemed to be enjoying themselves. James shrugged. If Bill were afraid of something, that’d benefit him. Even though he hadn’t been on an ATV in years, he at least wasn’t afraid. A small smile cracked his face. He might have a chance of beating the redneck after all.

  “Pretty simple, right?” Tommy said. “Couldn’t take more than half an hour tops. Both ATVs are gassed up.”

  “No more than half an hour,” Bill repeated. James looked over at him. As soon as their eyes met, a cocky grin replaced the uneasiness ruling Bill’s face. “Best leave the engine running when you stop to pick up their trash. I don’t want to have to turn it on for you again.”

  James pondered the route. “That doesn’t seem far at all.”

  Bill’s good humor immediately vanished. “It doesn’t look that way as the crow flies. But on foot or even on an ATV…” His voice trailed away. He looked around. “The quicker we get this done, the better.”

  “You—” James bit off “scared.” He didn’t want to pick a fight out here, far from friendly ground, with somebody twice his size.

  Bill’s head snapped up. “Am I what?”

  “Sure it’s that far?” James finished. Relief washed through him. A quick and witty response was usually better than a fight.

  Bill sighed. “Just take my word for it, okay? Just because you’re going to graduate doesn’t mean you know everything.”

  The words touched something deep inside James. Although Bill’s situation was his own damn fault, he still wasn’t living up to his full potential. And he’d be a father soon. A kid shouldn’t suffer because of his parents’ bad judgment. That wasn’t fair, not fair at all.

  “You know,” James said. “I’m sure there’re places around here you can study for a GED—”

  “We can discuss this later.” Bill’s face brooked no argument. “Right now, let’s race.”

  “All right!” Tommy called. “You both ready?” Bill nodded. After a second, so did James. “Then on your mark, get set.” He grinned theatrically. “Aaaannnd GO!”

  The whirling wheels spat gravel as Bill rocketed off. James pushed the accelerator button on the handlebar down about halfway and set off after him. He kept a light touch on the button. Best not accelerate too fast and flip the damn thing.

  Bill surged over the cracked curb. His wheels crushed grass and a pine sapling no taller than an end table when he landed. James followed. When the ATV slammed into the ground, the seat slammed into James’ crotch. His eyes bulged. He wondered if Bill were wearing a cup or something. It would be an awfully inglorious race if he couldn’t drive fast for fear of crushing his nuts.

  James pushed the button harder. The engine roared. The ATV bounced harder across the uneven ground. He tightened his grip on the handlebars and continued accelerating. He hadn’t wanted to get into this, but he’d be damned if he were going to lose.

  Seconds later, they passed under the trees. Though plenty of light filtered through the trees at first, it wasn’t long before the branches overhead grew thick and wild. Gloom devoured the once-sunny woods. The air whipping across James’ exposed face and hands cooled. The ground dipped. Bill’s ATV vanished from sight before emerging once more like those whales
Alex had talked about at Zaxby’s. James swore and sped up. Just a little. He didn’t want to go flying. He crashed through fallen limbs, hard on the tracks Bill’s ATV had cut into the wet ground.

  It wasn’t long before a gray chain link fence rose ahead. Coils of razor wire rolled along the top.

  A lot of security for a tree farm. He rolled his eyes. They afraid someone’ll come in and get a free Christmas tree?

  James turned the handlebars right and rode alongside the fence, following where treads marred the slurry of wet earth and leaves. The river of interlocking metal rolled to James’ left for quite a while. Must be a damn big tree farm. Maybe it was secretly a pot farm. He’d heard about the gangs growing weed in some of the big parks out West.

  Then a wide dark pool bisected by the fence opened up in front of him.

  “Holy shit!” He tore the handlebars as far to the right as he could. The ATV’s two left wheels left the ground. The right wheels tore into mud. Cool, heavy wetness spattered his legs. James’ mouth worked silently, hands gripping the handlebars so tightly his knuckles hurt. The ATV’s left wheels slammed down into the dark water, soaking his already muddy legs to the hip and giving his left side a good spraying. Water rooster-tailed from the tires. Soon all four tires caught solid ground, and he was on his way again.

  His heartbeat slowed just a little as he rolled alongside the pond. The dark waters extended pretty far away from the fence before narrowing into a murky creek. Though the mud was uncomfortable on his legs, he smiled anyway.

  The bridge had to be close.

  It hung suspended in the dark waters, so deep that light itself was only a distant flicker overhead. Its large azure eyes were closed. It typically spent most of the day like this, not truly asleep but not truly awake either. It would go deeper to truly sleep, into the dark abyssal caverns where it could trust that nothing would bother it.

  Something rumbled in the distance, the sound distorted by the pillar of water overhead. Its many eyes slid open, casting a glow throughout the dim waters all around. Those noises were new to its vast domain. The red men who called themselves “Istichata” and “Muskogee” who’d once brought it food never had them. It was only the white and sometimes black men called “Americans” who did, but only recently.