The Willows

by Krystal McLaughlin

  "Hello?" I called out, "I can see you."

  A horn honked again and this time I jumped. "Hey there, ready to go home?" Jake called out his window.

  I nodded, but turned back to have one last look into the shadows. Whoever it was that had been there, was gone. Frowning, I turned and walked around to the passenger side of Jake's car.

  "What's that?" He asked, motioning to the box.

  I looked down at it, just remembering that it was there. "Oh, I don't know. Hallie brought it to me. Someone left it at the diner."

  Jake eyed it suspiciously. "Maybe we should wait to open it. You look a little freaked out."

  I laughed, climbing into the car, "no, it's fine. I just thought I saw something in the woods. My imagination is just in overdrive today."

  He nodded and put the car into drive. He had barely driven half a mile when I opened the package and gasped, "turn around!" I yelled.

  He had learned not to question me. We were back in front of the cemetery in seconds and I was out of the car just as quickly. I ran through the tombstones, careful not to disturb any of the graves. When I was standing the exact spot I was sure I had seen someone, I opened my senses. Jake skidded to a stop beside me.

  "There was someone here." Not only were there footprints on the ground, but there was a smell of fresh blood in the air.

  Jake nodded. "Let's get home, make sure Mason is okay."

  "Okay."

  We walked back to the car slowly. "What was in the box, anyways?" He asked.

  I sighed, "it was just someone messing with me."

  He frowned and opened my car door for me. When he went around to the other side and sat down in front of the wheel he held his hand out, "let me see."

  He let the soft black hoodie fall from the box onto his lap. "How did someone get this? I thought it was at your house."

  I shrugged, "I thought so too."

  "Are you sure its his?"

  I nodded, "yeah, it's the same one alright." I closed my eyes, "it still smells like him."

  "Evie?"

  I opened my eyes and looked over at him expectantly.

  "There's something else in here."

  I frowned and took the box back. He was right. It wasn't much. Just a note with three words scribbled neatly on it in the same blood red sharpie. Fuck. Not again.

  The paper drifted from my hands and landed on my lap, but the words were emblazoned in my mind.

  Jackson is alive.

  Well hell.