The Thing in the Woods

by Matthew W. Quinn

  Maad had returned to school that day, less than twenty-four hours after Sam’s warning. Despite that, James still suspected what he’d heard about a break-in was nothing more than small-town gossip. But what Maad had told him when they sat at their customary table in the cafeteria corner near the vending machines changed things.

  A sheriff’s deputy had asked for the family to come outside, but only offered the vaguest reason. Then his mother had spotted the masked men and slammed the door. Maad’s father had recently bought a gun and started shooting. Though he’d driven the mysterious attackers away, a ricocheting bullet to the leg put him in the hospital.

  Maad shook his head. “If that were the case, he would be in jail right now. The Edington police suspect it was some hooligan wearing a uniform he bought or stole. A real deputy wouldn’t have masked men with him.”

  Part of James wanted to believe Maad’s explanation. There were stores where somebody could buy uniforms. Movie companies did it all the time. Some local thug must’ve bought one, but couldn’t afford more for his posse. He’d use that to get Maad’s family under control so his goons could ransack the house. Meth-heads, probably. Just because they were rotting their brains and teeth didn’t mean they were stupid.

  But the sensible answer wasn’t always the right one. James’ hand rose unconsciously toward his still-bandaged left cheek. The deputy tried to convince him that some tentacle monster hadn’t attacked him in the woods, that Bill had gotten angry and knifed him. And now a man in a deputy’s uniform tried to kidnap Maad’s family.

  Fear rippled through James. That lined up very nicely with what Sam had told him at Best Buy. Was one of the masked men Sam? Or did he drive the getaway car?

  James looked around the teeming cafeteria, at the dozens of students gathered beneath the looming central tree. Nobody around them seemed to be paying attention, but all it would take is one person talking. Knowing Edington, someone would. Word would get back to the Sheriff’s Office and they’d try for Maad, him, or perhaps even both.

  “Okay, we’ve got to be careful about this,” James said quickly. “I’m really not supposed to be talking to you in the first place, but if they hear I’ve been talking to you about this, I’ll get in even more trouble.” Maad nodded. “What is your family doing?”

  “Dad’s at home now, on crutches.” He frowned. “They took his gun away ‘for evidence.’ What are we supposed to do if those hooligans come back? The police say they’ll run patrols by our house, but we’re still pretty far from Edington even if we’re still in the city limits.”

  Would the cultists go after Maad’s family again soon, or would they wait for the heat to die down first? James frowned. There was only one person he knew who could answer that question—Sam Dixon. James really didn’t want to call him. For all he knew, Sam was in on the whole thing. The man could be trying to lure him into a trap. The whole warning that the cult was after him could be nothing more than some elaborate plot to get rid of a witness.

  Of course, there was such a thing as going into a trap with open eyes, knowing that your enemy didn’t know you knew. He’d read that in a book once. It made sense. He waited until Maad had finished eating and left to throw away his Styrofoam tray before he dialed the number Sam gave him.

  “This is Sam Dixon. I’m a little busy at the moment, but I’ll get back to you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Have a blessed day.”

  James scowled. When he actually wanted to talk to the man, he was nowhere to be found.

  Then he took a second look at his phone. He was going to meet up with Amber. Part of him wondered if this would be a good excuse to stand her up. He didn’t need to get involved with a girl, not now. Hell, this might even put her in danger. That’s what happened in the movies. Villains were always taking the hero’s wife or girlfriend hostage or murdering them out of spite and stuffing them in refrigerators. He didn’t want that happening to Amber.

  No. He’d said he’d meet up with her for ice cream and tell her what had happened. Maybe that’d be stupid, but he would keep his word.

  Amber had expected Jessica and Ellen to be upset when they learned she was meeting up with James that afternoon. They didn’t disappoint.

  “You’re going out with him?” Jessica demanded. Both her hands fell to the cafeteria table on either side of her lunch tray, the slap audible even over the noise of fifth-period lunch. “Amber, have you lost your mind?”

  Amber’s cheeks reddened. If only that were true. “We’re not going out! And it’s not like I’m getting in the car with him anyway. We’re meeting at the Baskin and Robbins after school.”

  “That’s better,” Ellen said. “At least you can get out of there if he flips out. You want me to text you? It’ll give you an excuse to leave, and if you don’t answer…”

  “That’s sweet of you, but I don’t think we’ll be that long. He said he was going to tell me just what happened to Bill.”

  Silence fell for a long moment. Amber tensed. Had she said too much? If what she thought was going on actually was, James was in danger, she would be in danger if she were associated with him. Ellen and Jessica would be as well if the sons of bitches decided to be more thorough.

  Jessica leaned forward. “Amber, you’re tempting fate. Austin was a tool, but James could very well have killed somebody and avoided getting arrested because of…” Her lip curled in contempt. “Because of his daddy.” She snorted. “Be patient. There’re plenty of boys down at Valdosta who aren’t murderers or just interested in one thing.”

  Amber rolled her eyes. “Jessica, it’s not about that.” It was about much, much more than that. “Anyway, if I wanted to date just anyone, I’d go out with Walter.”

  Jessica laughed, but it wasn’t a kind one. Walter had tried to get her to go out with him too. “What time were you planning on meeting him?” Ellen asked.

  Amber reflexively looked at her watch. “About 3:45. With traffic and all, it might take a bit to get out there.”

  “You know, Jessica and I could just ‘happen’ to show up there, maybe about fifteen minutes after you meet him,” Ellen offered.

  Amber sat up a little straighter. She couldn’t fault her friends for trying to protect her from what they thought was a murderer. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d made a poor decision as far as a boy was concerned. But if James told her what she suspected he was going to tell her, their lives might be in danger if they learned too much. She wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t do that.

  Be cool. Don’t freak out. Amber smiled. “Thank you for offering, Ellen. I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” She looked at her watch. It was 1:15 in the afternoon. Classes ended at 3:30. “But if you two want to text me around 4:30, that’d be fine.”

  Ellen nodded. “That’s fine with me. Jessica?”

  Jessica pursed her lips. “I still think this is a bad idea, Amber. But I’m game.”

  That afternoon after school let out, James made his way to the Baskin and Robbins as quickly as possible. Amber arrived barely five minutes after he did. Now she sat beside him in the front seat of his Saab in the parking lot. They’d both gotten cups of chocolate peanut-butter ice cream, but they’d long since stopped eating it.

  James had started telling her the tale of the ATV race after they’d paid for their ice cream, but as soon as he got to the part about the water sloshing around, she immediately shushed him and hustled them out to his car. All she’d said was that they didn’t know who might be listening.

  “Okay,” he said. “Why do you not want people talking about it? Is there some kind of death squad down here that kills everybody who talks?”

  “Yes!” she exploded. She sighed. “Do you think they’d want word of what they’re doing to get out?” She looked out the window. “Luckily you didn’t say that much before I got you out of there.” She looked straight at him. “What I’m about to say you can’t repeat. Got it?”

  “Sure.”

  Amber swallowed. “Dad told me that
when he was little, his big brother was part of the cult. He’d joined it after fighting in Vietnam with one of them. Back in the Seventies, three civil rights workers from Atlanta came in, to register the blacks to vote. Only one left, and that was because my uncle hid him from the others. They found out.” She swallowed. “They punished him.”

  “Punished him?”

  She looked out the window again. “They took him to the tree farm. The thing in the woods ate him from the feet up. It took about an hour. Then the rest of them put on Klan robes and set his house on fire. Everybody figured he’d been an informer for the FBI, but that wasn’t true at all.”

  The ice cream in James’ stomach roiled uncomfortably. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. Bill’s death had been horrific, but at least it had been quick. “The cult gave your uncle to…to the thing? Why didn’t your family just get the hell out of here?”

  Amber snorted. “Move? Run away? Let those bastards scare us off? This is our town too.”

  Her voice burned with long-buried anger. Time to change the subject. “How many people are in the cult?”

  Amber shrugged. “Don’t know, but I’d reckon it’s smaller than it used to be. More folk are moving in and out of town these days, and that was before you all started showing up. But that doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous.”

  “I wasn’t saying it’s not.” He paused. “Is Deputy Richards in it? Or Deputy Bowie?”

  Amber sighed. “I don’t know. I know what happened to my uncle because the man he met in Vietnam told Dad what really happened a couple years ago, when Dad was visiting people in the hospital with church.”

  A thought appeared in James’ head, a thought that sent a wave of fearful tingling across his scalp. “Are any of your relatives in the cult?”

  “No! Do you think they’d trust anyone from my family now? It’s not that secret, especially those who’ve always lived here. But with more and more moving from Atlanta, odds’re better and better someone who doesn’t know not to talk is going to see something.” Amber looked straight at him. “Guess who’s the lucky man?” James’ gut clenched. “Not only did you see it, but a whole bunch of folk know something happened involving you that led to a kid dying. A local kid. I don’t know those deputies, but if they’re not in the cult, maybe by blaming Bill for…what happened, they’re trying to protect you as well as sweep the whole thing under the rug.”

  An attempted cover-up for his benefit? James had never thought of that. Deputy Bowie didn’t seem like so much of a tool now. James frowned. He was still trying to cover up a murder enterprise. “Well, from what Sam told me, that little scheme doesn’t seem to be working.” He tensed. Why did he always realize he shouldn’t have said something after he said it?

  Amber’s jaw dropped. “Sam? Sam Dixon?”

  James hadn’t been planning on telling Amber that, at least right away. But the cat was out of the bag now. He quickly relayed what Sam had told him after she’d left the Best Buy. “So how do you know Sam?” James asked when he was done.

  “Sam’s wife’s dad was my mom’s cousin, not sure to what degree. He died, and his wife remarried, but Brenda is still family.” She paused. “It’s complicated.”

  “Is everybody related to everybody down here?” He realized his mistake a moment after the words escaped his lips. Shit. That was twice in the same conversation.

  Amber scowled. “Nobody here marries their cousins. But it is a close-knit community.”

  James nodded quickly. He must’ve hit a sore spot there. Best not keep jamming down on it. “You didn’t know Sam was in the cult?”

  She shook her head. “We’re not that close. I mean, Sam and Brenda go to one of the Baptist churches on the West Side and we go to Creekside United Methodist.”

  James wondered just how divisive that could possibly be, but decided not to ask. He was running out of feet to stick in his mouth.

  “Okay. Now what?”

  “Well, the smart thing to do would be for your family to get the hell out of Edington. Now.” She looked out the window toward Fairmont Street and the acres of headstones in the cemetery beyond. “You and your other friends, especially Katie and Maad. Especially Katie and Maad.” She paused. “On the other hand, that might be what they’ll expect you all to do. They’ll be watching the main roads in and out of the county.”

  James had a solution to that. His family’s GPS had an option for back roads. If they had to get out of town by means other than the state highways, it wouldn’t be that hard to figure a way out.

  If they believed him of course. They’d thought he was on drugs when he told them what happened to Bill. If he told them this, with corroboration from Amber and Sam, they might be more willing to listen…

  Suddenly his cheerful ringtone stabbed his ears. James snatched his phone from his jeans immediately. It was Mom.

  “Shit!” James swore. Amber frowned. “Sorry. I’m grounded. For what happened with Bill.” Amber gaped with outrage as James answered.

  “Where are you?” Mom demanded before he could even say hello.

  “I’m on the way to work,” James said, hoping his lie was convincing. Well, it wasn’t a total lie. He’d met up with Amber for ice cream after school. Then he’d be going to the Best Buy for his daily shift.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “I was driving by and saw what looked like your car parked in one of the strip malls. I thought it couldn’t be you, but decided to check.”

  James’ hand tightened on the phone. He hadn’t thought about how that could happen. He’d forgotten that Mom would be coming home from the bookstore at some point in the afternoon. His gaze leaped to the long street ahead. He didn’t see Mom’s car anywhere. That didn’t matter. The damage was done.

  “One of Karen’s friends wanted my help with school,” James lied. “I figured I’d meet her on the way to work—”

  “Is it that Amber girl?” James’ heart skipped a beat. Amber’s eyes bulged. Mom must’ve been so loud she heard her name over the phone. When Mom started talking again, she sounded both pissed off and amused. “After work, come straight home. You’re grounded, remember? Your father and I are going to have to think of some additional punishment.”

  “Got it,” James said, eager for the conversation to end.

  “Goodbye.”

  “You’re grounded?” Amber asked. “But you didn’t do anything wrong! That’s not fair at all!”

  “You’re telling me. Mom didn’t like me being too argumentative, and Dad figured it’d keep me from hanging out with the people who were with me when…” He swallowed. “When Bill died. It might look like I was tampering with witnesses.”

  “All right,” Amber said. “You tell your parents what’s going on. I’ll see if I can get hold of Sam.”

  Chapter Ten

  Phillip and the employees working that day took advantage of the lull before the dinner crowd came to wipe down some tables. He was cleaning some spilled salt and pepper out from under their respective shakers when the door banged open. It was Sam. Phillip raised an eyebrow. The younger man looked upset.

  “Phil,” Sam began. His voice was louder than usual, his tone harsh. “Phil, you and me need to talk. Right now.”

  Phillip hadn’t just fallen off the pumpkin truck. This had to be about congregation business. He looked around. Other than his employees, there were two customers present. None were congregants. Sam really should know better than to bring this up in public. He had to put a stop to this right now.

  “I was wondering when you’d be coming by,” Phillip said, just loudly enough to make a point. “I’ve got what you need in my office.” He looked daggers at Sam. Hopefully that should get the point through his thick head.

  Just like he hoped, Sam obediently followed him through the kitchen into the small room with frosted glass he used as his personal space. Phillip carefully closed the door before he let Sam have it. “What the hell is that about?” he demanded. “You come in here all riled, making a scene in
my restaurant.”

  Sam swallowed. “It’s about what happened the other night. You sent me and the rest to go kidnap a whole family over something one of their kids may have seen. And then when things go south, you feed Brother John to i…Him.”

  Phillip scowled. He’d reckoned sacrificing that fat idiot would only work in the short term. It’d take sacrificing the carpetbaggers to really fix the problem. However, he hadn’t expected another challenge to his authority to come so soon, and he hadn’t expected it from Sam. Things were worse than he’d thought.

  “All four of you failed Him,” Phillip explained in a tone appropriate for his grandchildren and Army pukes. “By rights, all four of you should have died. He showed mercy by only taking one.”

  “That’s not the first time you’ve said something like that. But I’m not believing it this time.”

  “So? Standing in front of an oncoming car and claiming you don’t believe in it doesn’t mean you won’t be squashed flat.”

  Sam didn’t immediately answer. Phillip almost smiled. Perhaps that’d shut him up. He’d have to keep a closer eye on the younger man until this was done, of course, but that meant he didn’t have to take more drastic measures. Sam was kin, sort of.

  Then the younger man had to go and ruin it. “That’s not the same thing, Phil. I don’t care what kind of weird food they eat or whether or not they worship cows. That family didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Phillip decided to take a different tack. “Sam, He works in mysterious ways. Maybe it was for the best.” If only I hadn’t explicitly ordered the Indian family killed. Then he could have claimed that He wanted to show Himself to them so that they would bring their kin into the congregation. It’d certainly help with the membership, however much Reed and those like him would piss and moan. Those who worshiped statues and cows would be easier recruits than those brought up thinking God was a spirit and not a physical being anyway.