by Amy Cross
“You're not going out tonight,” he said firmly.
She sighed.
“And that's final,” he added. “Not tonight, not until I...” He paused. “Just stay home tonight, Isobel. Please? Don't ask why, don't make a fuss, just... That camera will still be waiting for you to test it out during daylight hours, won't it? What's the big rush?”
“I promised -”
“Please, Izzy, I -”
Before he could finish, his cellphone started ringing. Glancing at the screen, he saw that someone from Doctor Laine's office was trying to get through.
“Aren't you,” Izzy said archly, “going to answer that?”
He hesitated, before grabbing the cellphone and tapping the screen.
“John Farmer speaking,” he said quickly, “I'm afraid -”
“I've got a pick-up for you,” Doctor Laine replied, her voice filled with exhaustion. “I'm sorry it's late, John, but a burner needs fixing.”
“I'm afraid I -”
“Don't make me force you.”
“I'm with my daughter right now and -”
“Don't make me force you, John.”
He glanced at Izzy and saw the suspicion in her eyes. “Doctor Laine,” he continued, “I'm afraid I simply can't -”
“Section five of the local code requires you to collect a body if I tell you to,” Doctor Laine replied, interrupting him again. “John, you're not wriggling out of this. Come pick up the body, perform your magic, and everyone'll be happy. It's not even a big job. Believe me, this guy is not gonna be an open casket. Hell, we don't even have any family members lined up for him. It's just a quick clean-up and a boxing.”
He sighed. “I'm with my -”
“Section five, John,” she said firmly. “Get your ass over here. Now!”
With that, she hung up, leaving John somewhat annoyed.
“Trouble at work?” Izzy asked with a faint smile.
“I have to go pick up a body,” he told her. “It's at the York, so it'll take me an hour each way.” He paused. “Wanna come for a ride-along?”
“Not really.”
“It'll be fun!”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “A trip to the morgue will be fun?”
“But -”
“I'll stay home.”
He paused. “Lock all the doors and windows.”
She rolled her eyes. “Is that really necessary?”
“And you're not allowed outside tonight,” he continued, wiping his mouth as he got to his feet. “Is that understood, Isobel? You're not going to the forest. That is an explicit order, with no wriggle room. If I'm going to collect this body, it's on the understanding that while I'm gone, you are not to set foot outside. Deal?”
She sighed. “Fine. Whatever. Cross my heart and swear to God, I will not go outside tonight.”
Chapter Ten
Trampling through the forest's soft undergrowth, Izzy stopped for a moment and looked around. Moonlight was streaming down, casting the trees in an ethereal blue glow, and the entire forest seemed preternaturally quiet, as if she was the only life for miles around. She paused, enjoying the sensation, and then finally she raised her old 1970s Polaroid camera and took a picture.
The flash briefly lit the scene, and then the image slid out on a white square as the whining bulb began to recharge.
Taking a look at the image, Izzy gave it a quick wave in the cool night air, hoping to make it develop a little faster. She'd seen hundreds and hundreds of similar images in her mother's old albums, and she'd always wanted to take some herself. Tonight, finally, she was getting that chance.
“Not going outside, my ass,” she muttered, checking her watch and seeing that even with perfect traffic, her father would still be at least another ninety minutes. She paused, staring at the image as it slowly began to develop, but her attention was quickly drawn to the camera itself, which she'd spent months lovingly restoring so that it would finally work again. In some weird way, she cared far more about the camera than about any of the pictures she might take. “See, Mom?” she whispered under her breath, as a faint smile crossed her lips. “I got it running again. Told you I could do it. Not bad for someone's who's completely illiterate when it comes to tech things.”
She paused, before looking up at the blanket of stars that hung above the forest. At that moment, she spotted a shooting star arcing through the heavens.
“You'd better be paying attention up there,” she continued, feeling a slight tightening sensation in her chest. “I'm being a damn good daughter down here, and I don't want that going unnoticed. No smoking, no drugs, no alcohol, I'm clean as a whistle. I'm even -”
She winced as she felt another pain in her gut. Leaning against a nearby tree, she looked at the photo and saw it was still developing. The pain in her belly was getting worse, as if that harsh, dry hand was clawing at her once again. She knew she should go see a doctor, but she kept telling herself that there was nothing to worry about, that it really was just a very bad, very long case of gas.
Cripplingly agonizing gas.
Gas that had lasted on and off for two weeks now.
“It's just gas,” she muttered to herself. “That's all.” She paused, staring down at the forest floor. “I'm fine. Maybe it's growing pains too.”
She waited for the pain to pass, and after a couple of minutes she felt the latest bout starting to fade away. She knew it'd be back, so she figured she should just get on with things and try to be home before too long. Still, she couldn't help running the tip of her tongue against the two gaps in her gums, and she was surprised to find that the two new teeth seemed to be coming through faster and faster. In each gap, there was now a clear and distinct spike, and she couldn't help noticing that the spikes seemed particularly sharp, almost as if the emerging teeth had somehow been damaged or broken at some point.
“Son of a bitch,” she said with a sigh, before setting off through the forest, hoping to make it to her favorite spot at the top of the western ridge. Trampling through the long grass, she glanced at the still-developing photo and saw that the image seemed to be coming through just fine, which meant that her repairs to the camera must have worked. That, too, was something she'd had to look up online, and she felt genuinely proud of herself for getting the job done. “Bet you didn't think I'd be good at this kind of stuff,” she muttered, imagining her mother listening from high above. “Pretty goddamn cool, huh? I mean, I don't want to brag, but I figure I probably get it from you. Dad's not so good at this kind of thing.”
A few minutes later, reaching the ridge, she got down on her knees and took aim with the camera. The silence of the forest was strangely relaxing, and she even felt as if being out on her own was a good way to calm the pain in her gut. Even though she already knew what picture she wanted to take, she still hesitated, enjoying the process of framing the image. Finally, she hit the button on top of the camera, and the flash once again blasted the scene before another image slid out.
Sitting back, Izzy figured she might as well wait for the picture to develop, so she could be sure she didn't need to take it again.
For a moment, in the silence of the forest, she allowed her mind to drift back to the old days. She had no memories of her mother, not really, although she often pictured her in her mind. John never really liked to talk about the past, but she had her mother's old camera and she felt some kind of link, as if the camera anchored her to her mother's soul. Looking at the camera now, she saw her hands holding the sides, and she realized her mother's hands must have once held the camera in the same way.
“And that's enough of that,” she said out loud, forcing herself to stop wallowing in the past. “Sentimental idiot.”
Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus instead on the beauty of the forest, and on the calming, meditative effect of the silence all around. She knew she'd have to head home soon, and that she'd have to pretend to have stayed inside the whole time. That, in turn, meant she wouldn't be able to share the photo
s with her father, not tonight. Still, she could worry about that another day. For now, she figured she still had a few spare minutes.
To breathe.
To relax.
To enjoy the peace.
Finally she raised the camera to take one more picture. She framed the shot, focusing on a patch of trees in the moonlight, and then she pressed the button.
Just as the camera's flash ignited, there was a loud boom and an explosion ripped through the forest, knocking Izzy back.
PART TWO
HUNGER
Chapter Eleven
“What the hell?” Izzy muttered, scrambling and half slipping down the far side of the ridge and then stopping for a moment, spotting a patch of ground where the soil had been ripped apart and scattered between the trees. A hint of smoke lingered in the air, drifting through the moonlight. “What the actual -”
Before she could finish, another explosion briefly lit the scene, a couple of hundred meters away. The ground trembled slightly and Izzy watched with a sense of horror as a tree creaked and then toppled over, crashing down against the forest floor. This time a full cloud of smoke rose through the forest, lifting higher and higher until it disappeared into the darkness above.
Suddenly realizing that she might be in danger, Izzy turned and started scrambling back up the side of the ridge. She'd been so busy trying to work out what was causing the explosions, she'd only just realized that perhaps running headfirst into the blast-zone might be a mistake.
“Hey!” a voice called out. “Stop! Wait!”
Turning, Izzy saw a figure hurrying between the trees, getting closer. Poised to run, she nevertheless waited as the figure reached the bottom of the ridge, and at the same time she heard a strange jangling sound, like lots of pieces of metal bumping against one another. Finally she saw the face of the weird girl from school staring up at her. Rita.
“What are you doing?” Rita asked with a wide-open, excited eyes. “I thought there'd be no-one out here this late. If you'd come much closer, you could have ended up getting dynamited!”
“What am I doing?” Izzy stammered, her heart pounding faster than ever before. “What the hell are you doing blowing up chunks of the forest?”
***
“Dynamite,” Rita said with a grin as she pulled a sheet aside, revealing several large bundles of pale rods tied together with sections of string. “Lots and lots of dynamite.”
Izzy stared for a moment, before turning to her. “Where did you get it?”
“I found it.”
“You found it?”
“Yep,” Rita replied, clearly pleased with herself. Grabbing a faded piece of paper stapled to a piece of string, she held it up for Izzy to see. “Property of the McGurdy Prospecting Company, apparently. Or at least it was, back in the late 1890s. I've never gotten my hands on actual dynamite before, so I figured I'd try it out. I had to do some research online first, just to make sure I didn't accidentally blow myself up. I mean, I'm not completely stupid.”
“You found it?” Izzy asked again. “Someone just left a load of dynamite sitting around, and you stumbled across it?”
“Yep.” Rita paused, before holding her hand out. “Sorry if I was kinda bolshy when I bumping into you in the bathroom earlier. I tend to keep myself pretty much to myself at school. Being the new girl in town can be kinda weird sometimes.”
Shaking her hand, Izzy felt a kind of sticky, waxy residue all over the girl's fingers.
“That'll be from the explosives,” Rita explained. “I should probably wash it off.”
“What's all that stuff around your waist?” Izzy asked, looking down at the pieces of metal that hung from Rita's belt, attached to little threads of twine.
“Scrap, mostly.”
“And you carry it around with you?”
“Only things that might be useful one day.” She held up a twisted piece of silver. “I think this used to be a valve for some kind of motor, although it's pretty bent now. I found it in the street and figured it'd be a shame to let it go to waste.” She gave Izzy a twirl, revealing scores of other metal pieces attached to her belt, along with a couple of knives. “Pays to be prepared, right?” she added with a laugh. “You never know what's around the corner.”
“Sure,” Izzy muttered, as she watched one of the metal piece glinting in the moonlight.
Rita paused, observing Izzy with a trace of cautious curiosity. “So do you wanna try?”
“Try what?”
“Blowing stuff up.”
“No!”
“It's fun!” Rita said with a laugh. “Seriously! This is some, like, old school dynamite, not the modern stuff. It's proper 'light the fuse and stand back' stuff and it's kinda volatile, so you have to be careful when you're handling it, but really it's nothing that complicated. As long as you're smart and you don't get all clumsy, there's no need to be a pussy.” Reaching down, she picked up one of the sticks and examined it for a moment. “Think about it. This is at least a century old. I'm amazed it hasn't degraded. Well, I think it probably has degraded to some degree. Imagine how much bigger the blasts would've been back in the day.”
“Great,” Izzy muttered, “but -”
“Catch!” Suddenly Rita tossed the stick at her.
Panicking, Izzy stepped back and held her breath as the stick landed harmlessly at her feet.
“Relax,” Rita laughed, “it's not that dangerous. Like I said, it's degraded, and I don't think it was the strongest stuff to begin with. From what I can tell, it was used in some old mining operation. That's where I found it, anyway. There were all these McGurdy Prospecting Company signs all over the place. Hey, do you wanna see something cool?”
“I'm not -”
“This way!”
Without waiting for an answer, Rita turned and hurried between the trees.
“I'm fine here!” Izzy called after her. “I need to get home!”
“Come see this!” Rita yelled. “I promise you won't be disappointed!”
“I hope I will,” Izzy muttered, glancing at the dynamite for a moment before setting off after Rita, who was barely visible now in the distance. “Wait up!
By the time Izzy reached her again, Rita had stopped in front of one of the old mine entrances. A set of wooden supports extended out from the hill, with a gaping black entrance leading underground. Nearby, several ancient McGurdy Prospecting Company signs warned trespassers to keep away, while other signs reminded long-gone employees of the rules and dangers. A few old wooden posts, jutting haphazardly out of the ground at various unlikely angles, suggested that there had once been some kind of fence running through the area.
“Isn't this the coolest thing ever?” Rita asked, her voice filled with a sense of awe.
“It's just the old mine-shafts,” Izzy pointed out, stopping next to her. She could feel a faint, cold breeze blowing from the darkness. “Everyone knows the story. There are lots of them dotted around the forest.”
“And people just leave them alone?”
“As opposed to what?” Izzy asked. “What exactly are we supposed to do with them?”
Rita's eyes lit up with excitement. “Explore!”
“Haven't you seen the signs? It's not safe down there.”
“They're just being over-cautious,” Rita replied dismissively. “There are miles and miles of tunnels beneath our feet. I've been down a ton of these so far and nothing's happened to me! Aside from finding a load of dynamite that got left behind, anyway.”
“You should put it back.”
“Why?”
“Because it's dynamite!” Izzy continued. “You could hurt yourself, or other people, or even worse! You could blow yourself sky high!”
“Only if I'm an idiot,” Rita said with a faint smile. “Do I look like an idiot to you?”
“I think -”
“Don't answer that.” Rita paused for a moment, before stepping forward, heading toward the mine's entrance. Once again, the scraps of metal jangled as they h
ung from her belt. “Come on, I'll show you something else that's amazingly cool.”
“Stop!”
“Why?”
“Because it's dangerous!”
“So's crossing the street,” Rita muttered, ducking under the sign that hung over the entrance, slipping into the darkness. “You still do that, don't you?”
“These mines were abandoned years ago,” Izzy pointed out, following her but stopping at the entrance, determined to go no further. “They're unsafe!”
“Says who?”
“Says common sense!”
“Well, I've been inside every night this week,” Rita replied matter-of-factly, “and I'm fine. Common sense is usually just the product of people with limited imaginations.” Unhooking a flashlight from her belt, she flicked a switch on the side and blasted the beam straight at Izzy.
“Cut it out!” Izzy protested.
“Sorry,” Rita continued, stepping into the darkness and shining the flashlight ahead, picking out rocky walls with wooden supports spaced every few meters along the tunnel. While the supports looked fairly sturdy, some of them were a little cracked, having held the rocky ceiling up high for so many years. “Seriously, though, this is an old gold-mine. Can you imagine how deep it must go? Can you imagine all those passages running further and further underground?” She paused for a moment, with the flashlight's glow picking out the features of her spellbound face. “People probably died down here. Maybe their bodies were even left to rot, and now their souls wander the dark tunnels, constantly searching for a way out so they can finally rest. You do believe in ghosts, don't you?”
“Not especially,” Izzy muttered.
“Spoilsport.”
“I believe in what I see!”
“That's ridiculous.”
“It works for me,” Izzy said with a sigh, checking her watch. “I really need to get home soon.”
“I've heard things in these tunnels,” Rita replied, taking a couple more steps forward into air that felt even colder. “When I've been poking around, I've heard... I don't know how to describe it without sounding cliched, but I've heard bumping sounds, scrabbling sounds, like something's moving about in the deeper tunnels. I've never actually seen anything, and I guess it could just be wildlife or... gas or something...” She paused, watching the darkness with a trace of anticipation in her eyes. “It sure sounds like there's someone down there, and I sure feel like I'm not alone, not when I get deeper. I can't explain the sensation, but it's as if something's watching me.”