Black Eyed Children (Black Eyed Children Series Book 1)

by Sara Clancy

  “You'll help me get them to town? Can we look for the pups?”

  Mark's eyes narrowed. “I'm not helping you do anything. We still haven't found the kids. So, as a Hail Mary, I'm going to light a bonfire and hope they see it.”

  She didn't try to hide the horror that played across her face. “You're going to lure them back to the dogs?”

  “You know, not one of Peter's dogs was injured. Seems more like you hurt the pups, not the scared and abandoned children.”

  Ruby hugged herself tightly, but it did nothing to fight off the chill in her bones. “They're not kids.”

  “You know what? You really should stay with me at the yard tonight. It'll be good for you to see that it's just a bunch of trees. You need to accept reality.”

  She looked up at him. “I don't want to go out there again. I want to bring the dogs here, where it's safe.”

  Mark gestured to the door. “Too late now. We'll barely get out there before sundown. And I'm not making two trips. So you can either come with me or spend the night at the local hotel.”

  Bannock butted against her thigh and the decision was made. She couldn't leave the dogs. Mark didn't speak a single word to her for the length of the trip and Ruby was grateful for it. She stared out the window, her heart hammering within her chest, each beat shuddering through her veins. The shadows were starting to rise again and the pink sunset made the snow glow. Ruby scrambled out the second he brought his truck to a stop. It was only as her feet hit the earth that she remembered.

  “I needed gas for the generator.”

  Mark didn't look at her but lifted a small metal tank out of the bed of his truck. It looked to be just enough to keep the lights on for the night.

  ”What about my shotgun?”

  “I'm not giving you a gun,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I'm not arming a girl that can't tell the difference between reality and T.V.”

  “What if a wolf comes?” she demanded.

  “I have my sidearm.” He jabbed a finger at her over the bed of the truck. “You're not going to touch it.”

  Ruby didn't bother to stay and argue. There was too much to do. Her replacement shoes slid over her feet as she raced around the yard, gathering the dogs one by one, bringing them into the limited space of the cabin.

  The sun was kissing the horizon by the time she got the last one inside. Mark had spent his time creating a massive pillar out of long hunks of wood. He lit it as she passed. One spark and a ghastly whoosh, and the flames shot up above her head, crackling embers spitting off to dance across the sky.

  Stocking the fire, he watched her carefully as she ran to his van and collected the gas tank. The sensation of being watched clawed at her back as she moved for the generator. She couldn't tell if Mark was enticing the sensation or if it were the others. Without hesitation, she yanked the cord. The generator rattled and the floodlights switched on to drive back the encroaching night. The sun was nothing more than a gilded line stretched out atop the treetops. And it was rapidly fading. Her fingers touched the door handle just as the last rays of daylight died.

  Despite the cramped conditions, the dogs clustered together, each one seeking to be as far from the door as possible. The light of the bonfire pressed against the windows and Ruby used it to start one of her own. Only as the heat began to push against her, did she allow herself to acknowledge the agony the cold had drawn from her skin.

  The screen door slammed. Ruby snatched up a chunk of wood and held it tight as she whirled to the noise.

  “Easy,” Mark said. “It's just me.”

  The flames of his raging fire framed him as he stood in the doorway, the orange glow slashing into the darkness just to be beaten back again. She shuddered.

  “Lock the door,” she told him. “And keep your gun close.”

  ***

  Ruby's head jerked up as a few dogs let out a disgruntled grumble. The traces of her waking nightmare vanished as she watched Mark work his way towards the door.

  “Where are you going?” Ruby asked.

  Mark didn't bother to look at her as he continued stepping over the dogs. “I need to restock the bonfire.”

  “You can't go out there,” she snapped as she scooted off the edge of the bed.

  “There is nothing out there,” he said.

  “Yet.”

  He rose one hand to her. “It'll take five minutes. You can stay here. Or maybe use the bathroom. You've been obviously uncomfortable for a while.”

  Ruby contemplated that for a moment, weighing her options against her mounting need. Most of the night had passed without sight or sound of them. It was possible they were gone. They had their victim. And with the roaring bonfire and an armed officer, the prospect was tempting.

  “Okay,” she mumbled.

  “I promise not to come back in until you're done,” he said.

  Ruby hesitantly followed him through the doorway, her eyes darting around the shadows. Taking a deep breath, she ran into the snow. Her borrowed boots did so little against the cold that it felt like she was barefoot. The wind whipped against her, cutting through her jacket and slicing to her core. She ignored it as she rounded the tent and found the outhouse.

  In record time, she was done and running back to the cabin when the floodlight clicked off. By the light of the bonfire, she spotted Mark, his face upturned as if he was trying to pinpoint the problem by sight.

  “Run!” she screamed as she barreled into him.

  Her hands clawed at his arm, her momentum making him stumble.

  “Get back in the cabin, now!”

  Refusing to move, he slipped his arm out of her grip and peered into the shadows.

  “It's just the generator. I'll check it out.”

  “No!”

  She latched onto his arm again, tugging and shoving until he was forced to take a step. As he began to stagger forward, she raced ahead, urging him on. The glow of the cabin called to her as she wrenched open the screen door and looked behind her.

  “Come on! Hurry!”

  Mark took a few more steps before he paused. Brow wrinkling, he looked over his shoulder, back towards the tent.

  “Do you hear that?”

  “No,” she snapped without thought. “Please, Mark. Just get in here.”

  He held up his hand to silence her and started towards the tent. Drifting behind the bonfire, the flames hid him from view. Ruby waited, bouncing restlessly on numb feet, her eyes locked on the other side of the bonfire. He didn’t emerge. The fire crackled. Her breath misted. The dogs behind her whimpered. Still, Mark didn’t come back into sight.

  A scream shattered the calm. Made of pure fear, it cracked her chest open and gnawed at her heart. Ruby bolted forward, her feet crunching through the snow. It only took her a moment to get to the other side of the bonfire, but Mark was already gone. Panting hard, she glanced around, trying to catch sight of him again. The snow had been disturbed, broken by something being dragged through. She followed the trail to the rim of light. Something stirred within the darkness. The screaming had stopped but bounced off the trees until it sounded as if it was coming from everywhere at once. His hands emerged from the shadows, clutching at handfuls of earth, trying to bring himself forward as he was dragged back.

  “Mark!”

  A few feet still separated them when a gunshot cracked. Ducking back, she raised her hands to protect her head as the stray bullet drove through the wood above the cabin door. With a thick, wet squish, blood gushed over the pristine snow. Mark's scream died instantly, leaving only the crackling fire to break the silence.

  Then footsteps thundered towards her.

  Ruby spun on her heel and bolted back towards the cabin. The snow crunched behind her, drawing closer with every second. It didn’t matter that they had started with a vast distance between them. The separating space was dwindling as she struggled with her cumbersome snow clothes. As she neared the cabin, she could hear them following only inches behind. />
  Ruby flung herself towards the cabin. Tiny hands latched onto her clothes, the thin material tearing apart as she forced herself over the threshold. Toppling down, she fell onto a few of the dogs that couldn't move out of the way. The screen door slammed back into place and she crawled forward, frantically looking over her shoulder.

  The three children stood just beyond the door. Framed by the lapping flames, fresh blood dripping from their tiny fingers. Their eyes were bottomless pits like gaping holes within their skulls. They looked as if they had just climbed out of the bowels of hell. As motionless as stone, they stared down at her, their position the same as they had been the night before. Once again, it was the boy who spoke.

  “Excuse me, miss. Can we come inside?”

  “No!” She screamed it in her mind, but the word came out of her mouth as a broken whimper.

  The children didn't blink.

  “Excuse me, miss,” the boy began again in his dead tone. “You have to let us inside.”

  Swallowing thickly, she lurched onto her feet. Her body hunched forward, readying herself for the moment when the children opened the door. But they didn't even look at the handle. Their eyes remained focused solely on her. Straightening to her full height, she towered over the children. It didn't stop her from feeling tiny. Weak and vulnerable. The boy's face barely moved as he spoke to her.

  “Let us in. We won't take long.”

  Ruby darted forward and slammed the door closed, lodging the door in place with the chair as she choked on her dread.

  Chapter 11

  Ruby’s arms trembled as she tightened her grip around her legs. Broken sobs wracked her body. She rocked with every gasp for air, the motion knocking her forehead against her knees. A smoldering lump swelled her throat shut, forcing the fire within her to pour from her eyes in scorching tears.

  The event played over in her mind. She searched every second for what she could have done better or faster. There had to have been a moment that could have changed everything. Something she could have done to save him. It was a torture that didn't make any difference. Mark was dead. Just like Peter. And she was alone.

  The whimpering of the dogs corrected her. They all huddled together until it was impossible to tell one from the other. She wasn't alone. The children were still out there. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Ruby tried to think of what to do next. She tried to weave her memories together to recall if there had been a radio in Mark's van, one that could contact the police station, but she couldn't get past the image of his hands clawing into the snow. Had he locked the van? Where were his keys? Her heart turned cold. Where was his gun? The more she thought about it, the more she hoped the children had it and knew how to use it well. Dying instantly from a bullet to the brain was far more merciful than enduring what Peter and Mark had.

  An agonized mewl shattered her thoughts and drove her to her feet. It started as a tiny sound, barely audible over the hiss of the fire, but soon became a high-pitched, wordless begging that ripped at her insides. Mark’s still alive? She stared at the door, unable to move her feet. The dogs around her grew restless, mirroring the sound of the wounded animal outside. There wasn't a window that faced the front of the cabin. The only way to try and see it was to open the door.

  They can't come in without an invitation. She felt a certain amount of reassurance the first time she told herself this. It didn’t last. By the time she reached for the handle, the repetition had lost its power. But the mewling continued. A painful, helpless whimpering that she couldn't ignore. Mark might be alive. She shifted the chair out of the way and slowly opened the door. Just an inch. Barely enough for her to peek out and check the threshold. Ruby had prepared herself to see the children still standing there, still waiting for her. But the area was empty. A cold sweat slicked her palms as her eyes darted around. She couldn’t see them. But she still felt their eyes upon her.

  They can't come in uninvited. Ruby used the theory as armor, a shield for her mind as she opened the door a little wider. The bonfire still burned, its flames as tall as she was. Without the floodlights, it was impossible to see anything beyond the ring of golden, dancing light it provided. On the far rim, she spotted Mark's hands slumped lifelessly on the stained snow. Fresh powder had begun to fall, muting the bright crimson of his blood into a rusted maroon.

  Ruby clamped a hand over her mouth. She didn't know if she wanted to scream or weep hysterically, but she was certain that she didn't want the children to hear her. Over her harsh breathing, the whimpering continued. It wasn't coming from Mark. Blinking back tears, she searched the ring of light. There was movement on the far right side where the light touched the fronts of the van and truck. The high set of the vehicles and play of shadows offered an innumerable number of hiding places for something as small as a child. She was just about to close the door when something shaggy and mattered with blood dragged itself into the ring of light, mewling as it went.

  “Echo!” Ruby screamed before she could stop herself.

  Her hind legs were obviously broken and twisted into a horrid angle. It made it impossible for the pup to stand. So she dragged herself forward with her front paws, drawing herself slowly towards the cabin. Ruby bit back a cry as she watched the helpless animal struggle. It's a trap! It didn't matter how much her mind shrieked it. Ruby knew she couldn’t just leave the wounded dog with those monsters. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to think up a plan. Be smart. Think. But then Nugget added his pained screams to Echo's and her already limited plans spiraled into nothingness.

  You can't get them both. The cold rationale of her mind whispered. Not before the kids get you. Ruby had no illusion that she was stronger than the black eyed children. Not after seeing Peter’s remains and witnessing how quickly they had taken Mark. They had overcome two fully grown men like a wolf pack. What chance do you have? So far, it seemed that her only weapon was her speed. She was taller than they were, her legs longer. It was possible they were just toying with her, allowing her to think that she could outrun them as some kind of sick game, but she didn’t think so. They hunted in packs. They used traps and surprise. She might be able to outrun them if she wasn’t restricted by snow gear. But even if she could, even if she did have this single advantage, she couldn't possibly outpace them while carrying the weight of a wounded husky. Let alone two. But the animals continued to cry, the sounds driving into her skull, her heart breaking as she watched them inch closer to the cabin.

  Slamming the door closed, Ruby lunged into the kitchen area and flung open cupboard doors. She dragged out whatever she found and searched through the items across the floor. There was a single knife. It was long, but dull, and she questioned the strength of the steel. There were extra supplies for the outhouse, rolls of toilet paper and sanitizing liquid. Holding her breath, she quickly read the back of the bottle, searching for the warnings she had seen on others before. Highly flammable. She dumped the rolls into a saucepan and doused them with the liquid. Grabbing the unzipped sleeping bag off her bed, she hacked at one end with the knife, tearing a hole in the material until there was a gap just big enough to slip over Bannock's head. It dragged behind him like a massive cloak.

  “If you can pull a sled,” she said to him as she rubbed his flank, “you can pull a couple of dogs.”

  He whimpered, and she was left questioning if he would follow her commands. Taking a deep breath, she shed her heavy outer layers, picked up her knife and saucepan and inched to the door.

  “Come on, boy.”

  Bannock didn't move.

  “Heel.”

  He took a step back. But as she inched the door open again and the tortured sounds of the pups came in, Bannock pushed forward, alternating between a growl and a whine. Fire shoved closer to the door, his growl deep with a flash of fangs, his shoulders hunched and ready for a fight.

  “There’s something to be said for pack mentality,” Ruby breathed as she gripped the screen door handle.

  They’re not really children,
she reminded herself as she flung the door wide open and bolted into the freezing cold, Fire rushing ahead while Bannock kept pace by her side.

  The first child she spotted was the smallest of the three. She came out to block Ruby's path to the wounded dogs. The boy had been hiding behind the van to her right, the older girl in the shadows of the tent to Ruby's left, and they both rushed out to block her retreat. None of them had suspected that she would run for the bonfire instead of the dogs and that bought her a few more seconds.

  Fangs glistening in the firelight, Fire hurled his large bulk onto the smallest child. The little girl didn't make a sound as they staggered back. Ruby lost them behind the wall of flames. The older black eyed girl was only a few feet away when Ruby managed to thrust the saucepan into the bonfire. The sanitizer liquid ignited with a rasp. The girl lunged for Ruby's arm. Whirling around, she crashed the hot pan down on the girl’s head. A scream ripped from her tiny lungs as steam bellowed and the metal hissed. With her knife clutched tightly in her fist, Ruby shoved at the girl’s chest. The blow made her stumble back. The hunks of wood tripped the demon child’s feet and she fell back into the bonfire. The towering flames spewed sparks into the air as they swallowed her up.

  The stench of burning flesh filled the air. They're not really children. It was hard to believe it until the thrashing girl’s scream morphed into an otherworldly shriek. High-pitched, shrill, but bellowing like a drum. The flames had caught on the girl's clothes and her skin boiled as she struggled to put them out.

  Ruby turned and the boy was upon her. Flipping the pot in her hand, she dumped the blistering contents over him before shoving the red hot metal onto his head. She gagged as he began to boil as well. Clouds of steam burst forth from the pan as he scratched blindly at the metal. Pushing him aside, Ruby raced as fast as she could to the wounded animals. Bannock was already with them, nudging them with his nose to urge them on. He squirmed as Ruby scooped up the heavy dogs and dumped them onto the sleeping bag secured around his neck. Their yelps of pain merged with the unearthly screams, but she didn't have time to care.