by Amy Cross
“It did. I told you, his name's Manny.”
“What if I've got a brain tumor?” I continue. “Wait, where are we?” I look around again. “We're on the other side of town.”
“We are,” he says, “but not too far. I got tired of dragging you.”
“Dragging me?”
“I didn't mean it like that,” he adds. “I'm not saying you're heavy, 'cause you're not. You're thin. Not too thin, just... I wasn't complaining. And I'm pretty strong anyway, so it wouldn't have been a problem.” He pauses, and he looks like a guy who knows he's just dug himself into a pretty deep hole. “Sorry about your shirt.”
Not quite understanding what he's talking about, I nevertheless realize that the back of my collar feels very rough. Reaching around to check, I find that the fabric has been stretched and torn, and that it seems a little slimy and damp, almost as if some kind of animal has been chewing on it.
“So,” the guy says, getting to his feet, “I don't know how good you are at figuring things out but -”
Suddenly he lets out a gasp of pain and slips back down onto the grass. He mutters something under his breath as he clutches his side, and it's clear that something's wrong.
“Changing back usually fixes most of these things,” he continues, “but it's not always immediate. That's something I learned from all the tests they put me through. I bet Manny's got it worse, though. He's a small guy when he's not shifted into his bear form, and I don't think anyone gave him a uniform from a fast food restaurant, so I figure he's gonna be in a bad way right about now. Serves him right. That guy has some serious anger management issues, even in his human form. As a bear, he's a total asshole.”
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Just the guy who saved your life. When I realized Manny was sniffing around those dumpsters, I decided to wait for him to leave so I could have whatever was left. Then you showed up again, and... Well, it's kinda hazy since I wasn't in this form, but I think some kind of instinct kicked in. I don't want you to think that Manny's some kind of awful person, because he isn't. He's just excitable, that's all. You met him at the worst possible moment.” He pauses again. “You're welcome, by the way.”
“I have to go home,” I say, hauling myself up. The pain is a bitch, but somehow I manage to stand up straight. “I have to get back to work. People are going to be wondering where I am.”
“People are going to be wondering a lot more than that soon,” he replies, “if all this craziness is allowed to continue. I've got to say, for all their supposed expertise, the guys from the base are woefully bad when it comes to dealing with a crisis. They should've called in support from further afield, but they're probably too proud. They'll do what they always do, they'll try to cover it all up, but I'm starting to think that they've left it too long this time.” He shrugs. “I don't know, maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part.”
“I have to go,” I reply, turning and starting to limp away along the dark street.
“I'm sorry about the other night,” he calls after me.
“That's fine,” I say, not even bothering to really try to work out what he means. This guy is clearly out of his mind, and I want to get back to the restaurant before anything bad happens. Anything more bad. “See you around.”
“About chasing you up that tree, I mean,” he adds. “I'm sorry I scared you. I was out of control and high on being free.”
Stopping suddenly, I stare straight ahead as I think back to that dream I had, the one with the vampire and the zombie and the wolf. I still know for a fact that it was a dream, that it had to be a dream, but does that mean that this is also a dream? Like, am I fast asleep somewhere right now? If that was the case, wouldn't I immediately wake up right now, seeing as how I'm aware of what's going on? And wouldn't the pain in my ribs and arm cause me to snap out of sleep? I hesitate for a moment, and then slowly I turn to look at the guy again.
“I know,” he continues, “you don't think it can be real. I totally get that. But the thing is... I can prove it.”
***
Sometimes, very dumb people do very smart things. Equally, sometimes very smart people do very dumb things. And sometimes, very ordinary people make choices that could go either way. Like, for example, following a complete stranger into a dark forest, just because they swear they can make you believe something that you know is impossible.
“It's just up here,” the guy says, as we crunch our way between the trees. “I promise.”
“I'm only doing this to prove you wrong,” I reply. “And because this is sort of a shortcut back to the restaurant. And because I know enough self-defense to take you down if you try anything.”
That last line is a complete lie, and probably an obvious lie too. Still, I don't want to seem like some kind of complete moron, and I know that following a stranger into the forest might not seem like the smartest move in the world. Then again, if I manage to figure out what's going on, it could turn out to have been a very smart choice, and I guess that's the risk I've decided to take tonight. It's hard to make smart decisions when you're not even sure that you're awake.
“Here,” he says, stopping suddenly in front of one of the trees. “Yeah, I'm sure of it. And you said you dropped your phone, right?”
“I did,” I reply.
“And that was only last night,” he continues, turning to me, “so it should still be here. Once you find it, then will you believe that it all really happened?”
Not really knowing what to say, I start looking for my phone. I know it tumbled from my hands while I was in the tree, and I vaguely remember seeing it landing down here. If last night's dream was actually reality, then it stands to reason that my phone will be down here somewhere. It can't have fallen too far away from the trunk, either, so I figure that finding it – or not finding it – will be fairly straightforward. Then I can get on with determining exactly what's going on here.
“What color is it?” the guy asks.
“Kinda silver,” I reply cautiously. “With a sticker on the back.”
“What kind of sticker?”
“You tell me. You apparently saw it.”
“I was busy with other things.”
“Such as?”
“To be honest, trying to eat you.”
I glance at him.
“It's complicated,” he continues, “and I'm not proud. Let's just say that I was even less in control of myself last night than normal. I guess I was high on a sense of freedom. When you've spent your entire life in a cage, with all your natural instincts being inhibited and controlled, it's kinda weird to suddenly be free. I guess I let it go to my head a little.” He pauses. “Adam, by the way.”
“I'm just here to find my phone,” I tell him.
“It'll be here somewhere,” he replies, as we start looking again. “So are you going to tell me your name?”
“Let's find my phone first,” I say firmly.
“And then you promise you'll believe that this all really happened?”
“I didn't say that,” I reply cautiously. “If my phone's here, then I guess that shows I was here too. It won't be here, though, because that's impossible. The sooner I figure out what's really happening, the sooner I can start working out why I seem to be losing my mind.”
“Your phone's here,” he tells me. “I promise. Then you're going to have to face the truth about what happened to you last night.”
Chapter Ten
“Well,” I say a short while later, with my hands on my hips, “what a shock. My phone's not here.”
“It has to be,” Adam replies, and now he sounds a little concerned as he continues to hunt all around the base of the tree. “If it isn't, then maybe someone stole it. Or a squirrel took it. There has to be a reason.”
“So is this fun for you?” I ask. “Do you spend your spare time trying to wind people up?”
He continues to search for a few more seconds, and then he turns to me. He looks utterly confused, but I guess that's
all part of the act.
“What happened tonight?” I continue. “Obviously there was no bear, so did I just pass out next to the dumpsters? And then you dragged me out here? I must have had some kind of freak-out, maybe I was mumbling about a bear, and you decided to take advantage. Yeah, that kinda makes sense in a twisted sorta way.”
“You have to believe me,” he says, taking a step closer, “I'm not -”
“Keep back,” I say firmly. “Don't come anywhere near me.”
“Do I look like some kind of monster?” he asks.
“I can't believe I actually came out here with you,” I reply. “Were you trying to kidnap me? Is that it? And then I woke up, and you bottled the whole thing? 'Cause, no offense, but you don't seem like the kidnapping type. For one thing, you're kinda skinny.”
“I chased you up this tree last night!”
“No, a wolf chased me up this tree,” I point out, before realizing that even this doesn't make sense. “I mean, I had a dream where that happened. I must have mentioned that to you, and now you're trying to confuse me.” I pause as I try again to make everything fit together. “I'm not dreaming now, am I? Or am I? How would I know?”
I start pinching my arm, and it does hurt.
“If this is a dream,” I continue, “I want to wake up right now. I demand to wake up.”
“There was an event last night,” Adam replies, “out at the base. Something went wrong and a whole load of us escaped. Manny and I aren't the only ones, there must be a dozen or so roaming the area. Maybe some of them already got recaptured, or they went further away. The only reason I'm still here is that I don't know where else to go. The point is, everything got out of hand for a few hours and the wardens weren't able to control us. And it seems that you just happened to get caught up in it.”
“You're deluded,” I tell him.
“Who else did you meet? What else did you meet? I know there would have been at least a few of the others out in the forest that night. Joseph escaped, I saw him. He's a vampire. Did you see him?”
I shake my head. This is ridiculous.
“And Manny, obviously. What about Helen? She's a mermaid, but she might have been able to drag herself to the river. I should check on her some time.”
“You're talking about mermaids as if they're real,” I reply. “You realize that, right? Do you understand how crazy you sound?”
“It was all so chaotic,” he continues, putting his hands against his face for a moment. “There were so many flames, I couldn't even see properly. I know the Bister sisters got out, they took the experimental craft that was being used for the UFO research. At least one of the trolls made it out, too, although I know not all the cells got emptied. I'm sure Graves would have escaped, he's too smart not to, although admittedly he's invisible so -”
“Stop!” I yell, suddenly unable to listen to this nonsense for even a moment longer. “Just stop talking!”
“You don't believe me, do you?”
“Of course I don't believe you! You're insane!”
“You saw us!” he says, taking a step toward me. “Don't you believe what you see anymore?”
“Don't do that!” I shout.
“Don't do what?”
“Don't touch me!”
He's already reached for my arm, but at the last second he stops.
“Sorry,” he replies, holding his hands up, as if that'll help in any way whatsoever. “Are you really just going to ignore what happened to you? Even if you didn't meet any of the others, you definitely met me, and you definitely met Manny. He'll have gone back to his human form by now. If we can find him, he'll tell you his side of things. I know you and he got off on the wrong foot, what with him attacking you and all, but he's actually quite a nice guy. You really wouldn't have him down as a bear-shifter kind of person at all.”
“Listen to yourself,” I reply. “Just listen to the shit that's coming out of your mouth.”
“Last night,” he says firmly, “I escaped from a top-secret military facility. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Oh, I believe you escaped from somewhere alright,” I say, “and it probably is some kind of facility.”
“If it's all a lie,” he replies, “then why are you here with me now? You woke up on the sidewalk, and then you followed me into the forest. Is that really what someone would do if they didn't believe that anything weird had happened to them?”
“You're right,” I say with a sigh, “I was willing to entertain the possibility that there was some grain of truth in your claims, but not anymore. I don't know what's happening, but I'll figure it out in the morning.” I take a step back. “If you want my advice,” I add, “you'll go straight back to the facility that you escaped from and hand yourself in. And don't get too attached to clothing that has sleeves, yeah?”
With that, I turn and walk away, praying that this lunatic doesn't follow me. I'm starting to realize that I really shouldn't have come out here with him, and I can only hope that he's basically as harmless as he seems. I mean, he's pretty lanky, so I figure I have a chance of taking him on if he attacks me. I don't like having my back to him, but the last thing I want to do is look over my shoulder. I don't want him to realize that I'm nervous.
“Hey!” he shouts suddenly. “What about this?”
I don't take the bait. Instead, I keep walking, determined to get back to the restaurant and try to save my frikkin' job. I want to return to the normal world and forget all the bullshit of the past few days.
“This is yours!” he calls after me, and I feel my heart sink as I hear him hurrying up behind me. “I remember it!”
“Dude, forget it,” I reply, as he steps around in front of me and holds something up, blocking my way. “I'm not interested in any more of these lame -”
Suddenly I freeze as I see that he's holding Grandma's old silver necklace, with the cross dangling down and glinting in the moonlight.
“This is yours,” he says firmly. “It was on the ground just over there.” He reaches up and lifts his upper lip, revealing a thick gash in his gum. “It's silver,” he continues. “You dug it into my mouth. You did this to me.”
Chapter Eleven
“No!” I hiss, finally getting into the house and immediately turning to throw myself against the front door, slamming it shut. “No, no, no, no, no...”
I take a deep breath, and then I see Stevie watching me from the bottom of the stairs. He's still wearing that dumb hat with the propeller on top.
“What are you doing up so early?” I ask.
“It's not early,” he replies. “It's seven o'clock.”
Checking my watch, I realize that he's right. I guess it must have taken me longer than I realized to frantically make my way home after running away from that complete lunatic in the forest. At least he didn't follow me. The whole way back, I kept looking over my shoulder, convinced that I'd see him keeping track of me. Even now, I hurry to the door and look out across the driveway, just in case he's loitering in the street. I really don't want him to know where I live.
“What are you looking at?” Stevie asks.
“Nothing.”
“Yes, you are. What is it?”
“It's nothing!” I say firmly, turning to him again.
“Is someone chasing you?”
“No!”
“Then why are you acting like they are?”
“Whatever,” I mutter. “Don't you have TV shows to be watching?”
“You're acting weird.”
“No, I'm not.”
“You are. Even more than normal.”
With that, he turns and goes through to the front room.
“Thanks for nothing,” I say with a sigh, before looking down at my right hand. Slowly, I unclench my fist to reveal Grandma's muddy, slightly bloodied necklace.
***
“No,” I say firmly, sitting on the end of my bed, still staring at the necklace. “There's another explanation. There has to be.”
Accordin
g to Adam, when I dug the necklace into the wolf's gums, the silver immediately caused massive pain. Also according to Adam, he's the wolf, and the silver-laced wound is taking much longer than usual to heal. He explained all of this in a very matter-of-fact way, and he even apologized for having not quite remembered the details before. He claimed he was still a little dazed from everything that had happened, and he said this was why he'd attacked me in the first place. He said that had been a mistake, and that it absolutely wouldn't happen again. According to him, he was out of his mind at the time, and he didn't really understand what to do with his freedom.
Anyway, that's according to Adam.
Sitting here now, in the cold morning light, in my good old familiar room, I try to figure out what really happened.
What if Adam's a stalker? He escaped from a psychiatric hospital, and then for some reason he spotted me and decided to come after me. Not in a stabby kind of way, but in a more subtle, and more creepy campaign that involves trying to crack my mind open. I'd like to think that I'd be immune to that sort of thing, but then maybe he just caught me in a weak moment. Sure, the idea's implausible, but it's more likely than werewolves.
And werebears, if that's even a word.
And vampires, and zombies, and all the other crap he was talking about.
Oh, yeah, I forgot about the aliens in their UFO.
Grabbing the lid of a pen, I start trying to clean the gunk from Grandma's necklace. She gave this to me when she died and I always swore to look after it. Somehow, in all the madness of the past twenty-four hours, I didn't even realize that I'd lost it. Now I want to get it back to normal, so that Grandma would be proud of me.
After a few minutes, however, I head over to my desk and open my laptop. Since I don't have a working phone right now, I have to do my research the old-fashioned way, and I soon bring up Wally's blog. That guy is a rabid paranoid conspiracy theorist, and I usually wouldn't deign to so much as click on his website, but at the moment I want to remind myself just how crazy people like Wally sound. That way, hopefully, I can make sure I don't start believing the kind of stuff that he believes.