The Thing in the Woods

by Matthew W. Quinn

  It wasn’t hungry. A deer had come to drink at one of the ponds scattered across its wide domain not long before. The sharp antlers had hurt when its vast mouth had engulfed the struggling prey, but its throat was wide enough the deer didn’t catch as it thrashed its way down.

  But not all Americans offered it food. Some preyed on the deer and other animals, eating food it could eat. These humans were trespassing. It knew how to deal with trespassers.

  A flick of its vast tail sent it on its way.

  James rode alongside the creek. It had been quite a while since he left the pond behind. Where was the bridge? It wasn't hard to believe Bill had given him bad directions just so he’d get lost. His eyes dropped to the gas gauge. He had plenty. He could figure his way back if it were some dirty trick.

  The ground dipped suddenly in front of him. James hit the brakes too late. The ATV hung suspended in the air for a moment before dropping like a stone. It careened downward, James holding onto the handlebars for dear life.

  Ohshitohshitohshit. He bounced up and down, barely holding on. Each impact slammed him crotch-first onto the seat. Pain flared with each blow. Stars danced in his reddened vision. The low ground alongside the creek was wet. The tires caught in the mud, the resulting brown rooster-tails soaking his already sopping jeans and even marring his sweatshirt.

  Thankfully the ATV didn’t get stuck or fall over. It continued up the hill, slowing as it advanced. Just before it would have crested the hill, it slowed to a stop.

  Shit!

  The ATV started to roll backward. James jammed the accelerator button all the way down. The engine roared. For one terrible second the ATV kept sliding. Then the ridged tires caught the ground, throwing brown dirt and decayed leaves. The soil-scent of rot tickled his nostrils. The ATV clambered up the hill.

  The bridge lay ahead. James surged across before he had time to wonder if its moss-stained wood could take the ATV’s weight. A quick glance behind showed him the bridge was still there. There were wet, fresh tracks in the mud ahead. James grinned. It wasn’t over yet!

  James caught up sooner than he’d thought. The first thing he saw was dirt rising in the air, flung by the other ATV. Then even that vanished from sight as Bill pulled ahead.

  James drove the ATV harder. Based on what his rival had said earlier, it couldn’t be that far to the hunting blind. Bill would get there first, get some crap the slovenly locals had left, and be on his way before James could even come to a stop. And then they’d be laughing at him for months.

  James accelerated once more. The bouncing increased. He grit his teeth. He’d beat Bill there no matter how much it hurt his balls. Hitting the wet ground faster than before threw more mud onto his legs, but he did his best to ignore it and kept his eyes peeled for the other ATV.

  The ATV rolled upward. Below, where the ground descended once more, he spotted Bill. James laughed. Bill wasn’t that far ahead. James continued accelerating. He’d beat that redneck yet!

  His elation didn’t last long. The ATV shot off the hill. Its wheels turned in empty air. When he landed, it was going to hurt like hell. James stood on the footrests as the ATV slammed into the wet ground.

  Standing up might’ve saved his balls, but he realized too late he shouldn't have locked his knees. Pain roared up both his legs at the impact. He shouted.

  Bill looked back and laughed. “Enjoying yourself?” he called, voice barely audible over the roaring engines. James reddened. He just had to do that in front of Bill, and Bill just had to notice.

  Another dark pond opened up ahead, its steep walls barely confining its murk. Bill was looking back at James. He couldn’t possibly see what lay ahead.

  James pointed. “Look out!” He hoped his voice carried over the roar of both their engines.

  Bill’s gaze followed James’ finger. The redneck immediately yanked the handlebars right. His left two wheels lost their grip on the dark earth. Bill threw himself to the left, but even his bulk wasn’t enough to compensate. The ATV went over. James could swear he heard something crunch.

  OH SHIT!

  James tore his wheel to the right, circling around the toppled ATV. Bill lay screaming on the leafy wet ground, the toppled ATV pinning both his legs. James’ eyes darted all over the ATV controls. How could he turn the thing off? And if he did, would he be able to turn it back on? He didn’t want to rely on Bill, especially now.

  He squeezed both brake handles as hard as he could. The ATV’s abrupt stop slammed him forward. The pain in his knees and balls flared again. He took his hands off the brakes. The ATV stayed where it was. Luckily its engine kept running.

  James hopped over to Bill. The bigger youth pushed at the ATV, but even with arms swollen by hard work on the roads he could barely get it off the ground.

  “It’s up,” Bill gasped. “Hold it up while I—” he breathed in and moaned in pain—“get out.”

  James nodded quickly. “Got it.” He reached down and grabbed hold of the vehicle’s leather seat.

  “Ready?”

  James tightened his grip. “Yep.”

  “All right.” Bill let go abruptly. The whole weight of the ATV slammed onto James’ hands like a falling sledgehammer. James pushed up with all he could. It wasn’t long before the exertion made him tremble.

  He managed to hold the ATV off the ground long enough for Bill to swing his right leg out from under its vast metal bulk. The seat slipped from his hands before Bill could drag his left leg—spattered with blood—completely out from under the boxy metal beneath the seat. He shouted in pain as the ATV slammed back down on the side of his calf.

  “Sorry,” James muttered sheepishly. He could feel his face reddening. Just how much of a goddamn pussy was he that he couldn’t hold up the ATV for more than a moment?

  “Son of a bitch!” Bill swore. He sat up and grabbed the seat with both hands. James followed suit. Together they pushed the bulky vehicle up just enough to get Bill’s leg free. Bill worked his way backward, wincing with each incremental move. Though James kept his hands on the seat, he wasn’t pushing up as much as before. The seat dragged at his fingers. James’ hands and arms protested. He grit his teeth. Bill’s leg looked bloodier than it had before. He’d barely made Second Class when he was in the Scouts, but he knew a compound fracture broke the skin. Shit.

  The ATV dipped, not enough to drive Bill’s leg back into the mud, but enough for the metal to kiss his bloodied camouflage pants above the ankle. Bill snarled.

  “Sorry about that,” James said quickly.

  “Goddamn it,” Bill growled. “Don’t fucking drop it!”

  “I won’t, I won’t, don’t worry.” He pulled harder, muscles burning. The ATV slowly rose. Despite the situation, a smile crossed his broad face. If he got the ATV back onto all four wheels, then he wouldn’t have to hold it up anymore.

  James pushed with his knees and back. Though the seat bore down on his hands and the muscles along his spine trembled, the ATV kept rising. The weight against his fingers lessened as he strained against the bulky machine. Eventually the seat pulled away from his hands as the ATV fell back onto all four wheels.

  “Good,” Bill hissed through clenched teeth. “I can ride it back out.”

  “With the broken leg?” James protested. “Maybe it’d be better if…”

  His voice trailed away. Other than the low rumble of his ATV’s engine, surrounding woods were totally quiet. No birds, not even the buzzing of insects. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. He looked around. Nothing moved in the endless trees surrounding them. Bill looked around, fear soon etching itself into his harsh features. James swallowed. His hands trembled despite himself. “What’s going—”

  He never got the chance to finish his sentence.

  The waters of the pond stirred, sloshing against the black mud holding them prisoner. James stepped back. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at full attention now. His skin crawled. He looked left and right. He and Bill were all alone amidst the trees
and the vines rooted in their wooden flesh, alone with whatever was in the water.

  “What the hell is that?” James’ voice rose embarrassingly high. “What’s down there?”

  Bill’s blue eyes were locked on the bestirred water. “Son of a bitch!” Bill swore. He scrambled back as best he could, dragging his broken leg behind him.

  Azure lights appeared in the depths. The lights were part of something big and dark, something James couldn’t quite see. The corn muffins he’d eaten for breakfast stirred uncomfortably in his stomach and the back of his mouth. Trembling raced up his legs. Sweat beaded beneath his hair and under his arms.

  Okay, we’re a lot farther south than Atlanta. Maybe that’s just an alligator, just an alligator, just an…

  Then the darkness surged upward, forcing the murky waters up over the pond’s edge and over James’ feet. It rose high, blocking what little sun peeked through the trees and casting both Bill and James in shadow lit only by azure lights.

  Now it was James’ turn to scream. Wet warmth bloomed within his pants. He scrambled back toward his ATV, thanking the God he rarely prayed to the engine was still running. He had to get away, had to get away from the thing, that terrible thing looking over them with a mouth that was as big as a…

  “Don’t leave me!” Bill howled. Still dragging his broken leg behind him, he pulled himself over the wet, leaf-strewn earth after James.

  His words seized James’ attention. James looked back just in time for a pair of tentacles to shoot forward and slam Bill belly-first into the ground. The impact with the wet earth cut off his pained scream. Then the tentacles snapped backward, hoisting Bill into the air. White claws streaked with bright red blood glared out of Bill's chest like a pair of murderously angry eyes. Bill kept rising, like a morbid puppet on slick black strings. His pain-maddened eyes bulged in his head. His mouth worked, spilling blood like tears.

  “Run, you dumb carpetbagger,” he burbled.

  Then the tentacles yanked him backward. Bill folded into a cavernous mouth with rows upon rows of sharp white teeth that reminded James all too much of something he’d seen on Shark Week.

  James staggered backward on legs rapidly turning to jelly. He had to get back on his ATV and get the hell away before he ended up kebabbed too. He threw himself onto the vehicle, not giving a damn about his balls, and grabbed hold of the accelerator on the handlebar.

  The sound of something huge wallowing in the mud thundered behind him, the sound piercing the engine’s roar. He threw a glance back. It was coming his way, a like a freight train made of calamari.

  Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.

  The blue-green orbs—they were definitely eyes—were locked on him. Blood shined on black flesh. James accelerated, uncaring if he hit something and flipped just so long as he was away from that thing coming out of the dark water. The ATV’s engine roared. He erupted forward just as something flashed toward his face.

  A blow to his left cheek nearly knocked him off the ATV. There was no pain at first, but soon agony erupted across his face. He held onto the handlebars for dear life, every bump and variation in their rubber coating digging into his hands. The vehicle carried him away from whatever the hell it was that had taken Bill. The huge black bulk faded into the distance behind him with a frustrated roar that sounded a lot like an alligator.

  James turned his attention back to the path ahead. Having gotten away from some fucking tentacle monster, now he had to get back to the others and warn them to get the hell out of there before it came for them, came for them to eat them. Snotty Alex or bitchy Sarah shouldn’t be food. Hell, not even Tommy deserved that.

  The left shoulder of his sweatshirt suddenly felt strangely warm. He spared a glance downward.

  The soft blue fabric was dark with blood.

  Chapter Six

  Tommy had taken one look at James’ bloodied face and called the race off. James wasn’t sure what he’d told the others, but Sarah had screamed and tried to rush off into the woods. It had taken Tommy and Gracen both to stop her. Then they’d bundled him into Tommy’s truck—Katie had taken James’ keys—and they’d taken him straight to the county emergency room not far from Fairmont Street. Tommy stayed with Sarah, who sat weeping in the hallway clutching her swollen belly while Maad, Katie, and Alex followed him into the cold emergency room as far as the nurses would let them. They’d shooed the trio away, then numbed his face and stitched him up.

  Just when he thought they were about to let him go, a quartet of sheriff’s deputies in brown uniforms showed up. Somewhere in all the hubbub, someone must’ve dialed 911. They led the others away, leaving James alone with the biggest deputy.

  “So,” the lawman said, his cool blue eyes unreadable. Dark hair fringed with gray peeked out from underneath a wood-brown baseball cap emblazoned with the logo of the Sheriff’s Office. The big man drew a cigarette from his pocket. As an annoyed nurse looked on, he lit it and took a drag. “Got a phone call a few minutes ago. Bill Aiken went out for a race with you and didn’t come back.” He loomed over James like a mountain.

  “Yeah,” James said. Sweat began beading on his forehead. Years of the things he’d learned from having a lawyer for a father raced through his head. For starters, one way people got into trouble was trying to be helpful and letting things slip. He swallowed. Best guard his tongue, lest he give the rednecks some excuse to charge him with murder. He swallowed. “I don’t have to talk to you without a lawyer.”

  The deputy scowled. “Who told you that?”

  James’ jaw worked. “AP U.S. Government. And my dad’s a lawyer.”

  The deputy raised an eyebrow. “He coming?”

  James nodded. Maad had called soon after they left the pipe farm. Dad had gotten home by then, but home was well north of the hospital. Even during the weekend, it’d take a while to get down Fayetteville Boulevard to the hospital.

  James looked toward the examining room’s wooden door. He could hear the usual hospital bustle on the other side, but no sign of Dad. His heart began racing. He looked at the nurse. Hopefully she wouldn’t leave him alone while some redneck implemented the third degree. He’d heard if you put a phone book on somebody and hit them with a hammer, it’d hurt like hell but not leave a bruise.

  The nurse looked at her watch and stepped through the doorway. James was left alone with the deputy. Despite emptying his bladder not long before, he suddenly needed to piss again. He didn’t see any phone books lying around, but who knew what the local could think of. The deputy certainly looked like he had ample experience. Luckily she left the door partway open.

  The deputy paced in front of the brown examination chair where the doctors had done their work. James nervously smoothed out the teal scrubs he wore over the fresh—thank God—underwear they’d given him while the local cops no doubt examined his clothes.

  “All right,” the deputy said. “We can wait a spell.”

  Time passed. James looked out the doorway into what little of the hallway he could see. No Dad. He didn’t see any of the deputies or his friends either. At least they weren’t being taken out of the hospital in handcuffs. He nearly snorted. The hospital was a big place. If the locals decided to make them disappear, they could just lead them out of the back of the building. Fewer witnesses that way.

  Luckily for James, Dad soon rushed into the hallway just outside. Their eyes met. Soon Dad was in the examining room.

  “This your father, son?” the deputy asked. James nodded. The deputy looked at Dad. “Deputy Charles Bowie. You?”

  “James Daly Sr. His father.”

  A thin smile crossed the deputy’s craggy face. “You’ve got a smart kid. Knew he didn’t want to talk without a lawyer present.”

  James looked to his father. Surely Dad could get him out of this. “Well, there’s a lawyer present now,” Dad said with no obvious emotion. He looked at James. “Tell us what happened.”

  So James did. His father leaned forward, eyes narrow and jaw clenched i
n the way he did when he was angry, when James revealed that he and his friends had accepted the locals’ challenge to a race. The deputy snorted in a way that looked like he was repressing a laugh. The humor drained from his face when James described just where they had been racing.

  Then James got to the part about the monster coming out of the water. “Hold it right there,” the deputy interrupted. “You’re saying something came out of the water and skewered Bill?” He took another drag on his cigarette. “Something like a big-ass squid?”

  James nodded. “Yes sir. It was at least ten feet—”

  “There is nothing around here like that,” the deputy interrupted. “This isn’t California with its giant octopuses.”

  Outrage welled up within James. He’d figured that part of the story would be hard to swallow, but he wasn’t prepared for this blatant dismissiveness. “Sir, it was there. It reared at least ten feet out of the water. It had glowing eyes and—”

  Bowie raised an eyebrow. “Glowing eyes? Is there any animal in nature that’s got glowing eyes?” James wanted to scream. Why the fuck wasn’t the man listening? Before he could object, the deputy leaned forward. James could smell the sharp tobacco on his breath. He met the deputy’s eyes for a moment before looking away. “Be honest with me, son, Have you been drinking?”

  “How about we let him continue?” Dad interrupted.

  Bowie glanced back at Dad. “Fine with me.”

  James continued the story all the way to the end. When he was finished, Bowie sank into a smaller chair across the room and watched him with those unreadable eyes.

  “Your story is consistent, I’ll give you that.” He kept his eyes locked on James. “But I’m sure you’ll forgive me for saying it’s just a bit tough to believe.” He took another drag on his cigarette. His tone wasn’t as harsh as before. James almost raised an eyebrow. The deputy had to know more than he was letting on.