by Sara Clancy
Focus, Ruby told herself as her brain scattered into a thousand thoughts at once. Feed the dogs. Then go to Peter. Tell him what’s going on. He’ll help you find Nugget and Echo. With a course to follow, she felt on firmer ground and rushed to feed the rest of the pack. She checked each one of them carefully as she went. They were all scared but uninjured.
Grappling for excuses, she told herself that it was possible Nugget and Echo had caught a rabbit or some other small creature. Maybe that was where the blood had come from. It was possible the children had only cut the wire. She didn’t believe a word of it, but it was easier to deal with than the other ideas that filled her mind. Bannock huddled with some of the others, watching her closely but not daring to follow her around like he had the day before. It was that change that scared Ruby the most. When she grabbed the van keys, she made sure to get the gun as well. It felt heavy. A lot heavier than it had been just a few days ago. Forcing herself to go slowly, carefully, she loaded the poppers into the barrel, the way Aaron had taught her. After a moment of hesitation, she shoved a few real slugs into one of her outer pockets and left the cabin.
Keeping the barrel trained on the ground, she hurried to the van. Ice had accumulated around the edges overnight and it cracked as she pried the door open. It was colder inside than out. She was barely in the driver’s seat when she turned the key. The engine didn’t make a sound.
“No,” she begged on a whisper as she tried again. Nothing. No matter how many times she cranked the keys or pleaded, the engine wouldn’t turn over. Slipping out of the car, Ruby bit her lips and tried to think.
“The snowmobile!”
Finding it was easy, but turning it on proved impossible. Ruby rambled and muttered under her breath as she struggled to understand what she was doing wrong. Her heart was slamming around her chest when she finally located the problem. The gas tank was empty. On a broken shutter, the last traces of warmth left her body. The gas. She had used some of it and wasted the rest. She was stranded. She wouldn’t have the lights tonight.
Think, she commanded herself as she clawed at her head with one hand, the other tight around the butt of the shotgun. Calm down and think. Peter. He’ll help find the dogs. He has a car. Maybe gas too. And he owes you for his little joke. So start walking.
The miles ahead felt like an insurmountable distance, but she didn’t have a choice. She needed help and it was the only way to get it. Gripping the shotgun with both hands, she headed back out into the yard, feeling like each step was increasing the distance she had left to go. Pausing at the gate, the forest still and the clouds gathering, she checked her weapon again. The shotgun felt clunky and strange in her hand but she wasn’t going to let go of it. Her voice cracked as she called Bannock to come with her. He hesitated but obeyed. Just get to Peter, she told herself as the once energetic dog kept close to her side. Just keep walking and everything will be fine.
***
Hours passed but she never seemed to get any closer. She kept to the middle of the road. Partly because the higher peak helped her avoid the deeper pitfalls of the snow, but mostly because she wanted to be able to see anything creeping up on her. Over time, however, even walking through the thinner layer of snow grew difficult and painful. Ruby kept trudging forward, her muscles tight and her feet throbbing. The whole time, Bannock had never strayed far from her side. His eyes never stopped searching the thick forest that crowded in on either side of them. Every so often, he would hesitate, nose lifting to sniff at the stray scents in the air. It didn’t matter how many times he did it; her heart stopped each time. Even with the sun high, dark shadows still lurked amongst the tree trunks. In those moments, it didn’t matter how much space there was around her. She still couldn’t breathe. But then Bannock would lower his head and look at her as if pleading to go home. She would tighten her grip on the shotgun and force them forward.
The gun was getting unbearably heavy and the cold had invaded her every cell by the time she finally caught a glimpse of Peter’s cabin. It was all the motivation she needed to pick up her pace again, ignoring the stings and protests of her body. But as they neared, the air shifted and the noises of the wildlife fell away. The now familiar sensation of nothingness made her freeze midstride. With wide eyes, she looked around. Just like all the times before, she couldn’t find what had scared the animals into silence. Ruby pried one hand off the shotgun and reached down, allowing Bannock to nestle his nose against her gloved palm. The reassurance was enough to make her continue. Slowly. Carefully. Her eyes darting around with every step.
The towering trees pulled back, opening into a little meadow that hugged a large dark wood cabin and dog yard. Just like her own pack, the dogs had gone into hiding. They cowered within their tiny boxes, their chains softly rattling as she passed. Bannock whimpered and shifted closer until his fur brushed against her leg. Her breath misted, obscuring her vision as she followed the stone lined path to the front door, the pristine snow crunching under the soles of her shoes with every step.
“Peter?” she called, her voice crackling with the nerves that budded against her chest. “Are you here?”
The cabin steps groaned under her weight as she climbed up on the porch. The front door was ajar.
“Peter?”
Bannock whined as he lowered his head, the scruff of his neck rising as his tail slipped between his legs. Ruby swallowed thickly before calling for Peter again. Just like before, it went unanswered. Barely able to bring herself to do it, she reached up with one hand and pressed it against the door. That was all it took to force it open. In the hush, the slight gasp of the hinges sounded louder than a scream. She flinched back.
As the gap widened, she could see directly into his darkened living room. The sunlight crept in and gleamed off of the small pools of blood. Trembling, Ruby went down the stairs, her eyes locked on the crimson liquid that streaked across the floorboards and splashed the walls. The wind shifted and the faintest traces of rot drifted out of the depths of the house. Gasping for air, Ruby jerked around, sure that something was rushing up to grab her. But only the empty air met her.
Sunlight glistened off the windshield of his truck. The sharp glare hit her eyes and snapped her thoughts into action. Find Peter. Get the keys. Get help. Flimsy plan in place, she shifted her grip on the shotgun and slipped across the threshold, Bannock reluctantly at her heels. The floorboards creaked as she moved. While the cold slowed the effects of decay, the walls had trapped the stench enough to make it roll her stomach. Bile burned the back of her throat as she crept deeper into the living room.
“Peter? Are you okay?”
Shut up! her mind screamed at her. What if they’re still here? The lie she had forced herself to believe was destroyed, leaving her with only the certainty she had felt last night. While they looked like children, they were anything but human.
Three steps more and the hunks of flesh became impossible to miss. They were scattered everywhere, little moist chunks clinging to the floor and furniture, each radiating out from a place beyond the edge of the couch. Ruby shifted one trembling leg forward, careful to avoid the pools of fluid, and pushed up onto her toes to look over the high back. A corpse was sprawled out across the floor rug, limbs severed from the torso, ribs bone pale and bared by the mangled meat of its chest.
Screaming uncontrollably, Ruby threw herself back. Her foot hit one of the puddles of slop and she toppled onto her back. The shotgun crashed against her hips but she refused to let it go. Bannock scattered around her, his barks savage and wild. She scrambled to her feet, unable to breathe beyond her whimpers. Keys, keys, keys. The word screamed in her head and she clung to it as her last point of sanity. She needed to get out. Get away. Just run.
Barreling into the kitchen, she searched the counters. Nothing. She ran to the door, frantically shoving her hands into the pockets of the hanging jackets. Tears boiled against her eyes only to freeze as they hit the air. Keys. Keys. Keys. The children are here. They killed him. Run! In
her panic, Ruby couldn’t remember when or where she found the keys to the truck. They were just suddenly in her hand, sharp points gouging her palm as she clutched them tightly. Run!
Only a short distance separated the door from the truck, but sweat still beaded against her skin as she hurled the door open. She dragged herself inside, waiting the heartbeat it took for Bannock to follow before she slammed the door shut and locked it.
“Please start,” she sobbed as her trembling hands turned the key.
The engine roared to life, growling steadily as the metal frame rattled around her. Throwing it into gear, she smashed her foot on the pedal, refusing to let up as the truck skidded around the curves of the road. They bucked, lurched, and left the road more than once, but she didn’t pay any attention. Not until they hit an unseen pothole and something heavy thudded against her legs.
Glancing down, she met the cold dead gaze of Peter’s severed head.
Chapter 9
“His head was in the car!” Ruby screamed at the police officer standing before her. “That isn't the work of an animal. It was those kids!”
The officer held up his hand. The gesture told her more than all of the twists and scrunches of his face could. She slumped and tried to catch her breath. In her mind, she was telling the story from start to finish in a clear and precise manner. But it didn't matter what it sounded like in her head when everything that came out of her mouth was a hysterical shriek.
“Where is his head?”
She closed her eyes. “I tossed it out the window. I was terrified. I’ve never seen a dead body before. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Again, he lifted his hand and she bit her lips to stop her babbling. The hospital lights were too bright. They burned her eyes as she sat on the examination table, her paper gown crinkling each time she moved. Peter’s blood had been all over the back of her jacket and pants and they had been collected as evidence. A nurse was quickly scraping Ruby’s nails in search for more.
“Tell me about these kids again.”
“They killed him! They took Nugget and Echo! What else is there to tell?”
His voice was a slow, crisp drawl. Ruby remembered people telling her that it was supposed to be calming. Right now, it only added to the tension that twisted like snakes under her skin.
“Take a breath. We're going to sort all of this out,” the officer said.
That was a statement he repeated a lot. By now, she knew he wasn't going to continue unless she took an exaggerated breath. Pressing her heels against the side of the examination table, she heaved her shoulders.
“Good. Now, I am going to help you, but I need you to answer my questions first, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled. For once, the sound of her voice matched the tone in her head.
“Now, you said there were three children?”
She nodded. "A boy and two girls."
“And what time did they arrive at the cabin?”
“I don't know. Late. Or really early. It was during the storm if that helps.”
The man paused and tapped his pen against the top of his notepad. She flinched at every thud. Neither of them spoke again until the nurse left the room.
“You left three children alone, in the woods, during a snowstorm?”
Ruby stammered, “They weren’t really kids.”
“What were they?”
“How am I supposed to know that?” she snapped before she could stop herself.
“You said they were kids.”
“Well, I meant that they looked like kids.”
“But they weren't?”
“No.”
He arched an eyebrow and tapped his pen again. “What were they then?”
“I don't know," she spat each word. "Demons, maybe? Ghosts? Enough people have gone missing out there that even the grass is probably haunted.”
“Ghosts?” he said slowly.
“Their eyes were black. Completely black. How is that possible?”
“A trick of the light? You said it was dark.”
“No," she shook her head. "I know what I saw.”
“Three children alone in the middle of the night.”
Ruby stared at him for a long moment, fruitlessly studying his face. “You don't believe me, do you?”
“I believe that you think you saw something.”
“Think?” she said. “They ripped Peter’s head off!”
“If it were the kids,” he said, the pace of his voice slowing again. “That means that they left you alone, traveled for miles in a blizzard, and attacked someone twice their size and strength. That doesn't make sense, does it?”
“Murdering someone at all doesn't make any sense to me,” she said. Tensing her fingers around the edge of the examination table, she released a long, strained sigh. Her next thought made her straighten again. “I didn't invite them in.”
“Yes, you mentioned that.”
“They kept asking me to invite them in. I refused. But maybe Peter didn't.”
“He was a good man.”
Catching the officer’s eyes, she silently pleaded for him to understand. “Maybe they can't come in without permission.”
“Like a vampire?”
She rolled the question over in her head even as she knew it was no use. There was no way for her to tell if he was mocking her or asking for clarification.
“Maybe,” she stammered meekly. “They did try and force me into it.”
“It's not consent if they trick you into it.”
“Haven't you ever watched T.V? Like the ghost hunter shows? They always have cases of people getting possessed because demons tricked them into it.”
“You believe those shows are real?”
Her mouth dropped open, but the words didn't come out until a heartbeat later. “I know this is real. Those things that visited me last night were real. And they killed Peter.”
“And went through all the trouble to put his head in his truck?”
With that question, she was sure that he was mocking her. It didn't matter. Her brain was already making the connections. The shadows that had scared her last night. That hadn't been an accident or a trick of her mind. They wanted her to waste the gas. So she couldn't run the generator. So she couldn't use the snowmobile that was supposed to be full but wasn’t. They had limited her options until she had to go to Peter.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “I told them to go to Peter. I told them that he was there.”
“They're children, Ruby. You understand that right?” the officer snapped. “You left children to die in the woods because you watch too much T.V.”
“No!”
“Yes. We've got a search party out and you best start praying they find those kids alive. Because if they don't, I'm holding you personally responsible.”
She balled her hands into fists and clenched her jaw. “And what about Peter? Are you blaming me for that, too?”
“We're still trying to sort all of this out. But I told you. Odds are it was a hungry wolf.”
Ruby lowered her gaze in defeat. “Can you help me look for Nugget and Echo?”
“The dogs? Three kids are out there possibly suffering from hypothermia and you're worried about the dogs?”
“Those kids,” she struggled around the word, “took them. If we find the dogs, we might find them.”
Ruby stared at his pen as it tapped against the notepad. His breath came heavily through his nose, like a snorting bull.
“Right now, you need to stay here,” he said slowly.
“I'm not hurt.”
"But you’re evidence," he said. "We're searching your cabin too. You can stay in a hotel tonight."
"What? No. I can't leave the dogs. They'll kill them."
He snorted again.
"Please. I can't let them get hurt," she added quickly.
“An officer will be out there. In case the kids come back.”
Ruby clenched her jaw as she held the man’s eyes. “You better te
ll them not to answer the door.”
Chapter 10
The replacement clothes they had given her were in good condition but were useless against the biting cold. They had let her leave the hospital room but not the building itself. The furthest she was allowed to go was a bench just inside the sliding glass door. To keep her calm, they had allowed Bannock in that far. Hour after hour, she had buried her hands in his fur. The thick tuffs slipped through her fingers but it couldn’t remove the physical memory of Peter’s head against her palm. Even now, it felt like she was holding the dead weight.
Police officers came and went, all asking her questions but none of them believing the answers she gave. As far as she could tell, they had reached the conclusion that she was a weak little girl who was a long way from home and had made a very foolish decision. She couldn't argue with any of it, although she knew her 'foolish decision' was different from what they were thinking. Those monsters had gone to Peter because of her. Because she told them to. She should have shot them.
As the sun began to set, the first officer she had talked to, Mark, came to see her again. She could feel his disgust radiating from him in waves. In his eyes, she had, intentionally or not, murdered three children. She sobbed with relief when he told her that she was no longer a suspect in Peter's death. He went on to explain why. Something about the state of the vehicles in the yard, the snow piled around them, and Peter's time of death. Ruby understood the general idea, she lacked the skill set necessary to survive a storm like that on foot, but the rest was lost on her. It didn't matter how hard she tried to focus, all of her thoughts returned to images of Peter's mangled corpse. When he told her she could go back to the yard, she quickly surged to her feet.