It was flight.
They heard the man’s snow softened steps strut towards the side of the house. The three of them fumbled back and hid by the backyard. Darnell nearly pissed himself as he did so. They listened to the rhythmic crunch-crunch of the man’s shoes against the snow.
Wade winced as noticed Darnell's shaky breaths. It sounded like crying.
The man has a person trapped in the house, Hewey thought. He’s gotta person locked away and knows were onto his secret. He’s gotta gun and he’s gonna come down here and shoot us off like deer—we’re next. Hewey’s heart thumped throughout his body, making his fingers tingle and knees on the verge of buckling.
“The hell?” The man said as he stared down the pitch-black side of the house. He walked back, without even stepping into the darkness.
Darnell stared across the wild, untrimmed grass. He shivered at the thought of his mom looking out the window next door and seeing him and his friends hiding—four hours after bedtime. He could be grounded for life. Have his Game Boy taken to Goodwill and lost forever; he could-
The front door slammed shut.
They all gasped and leaned against the house’s brick foundation. Hewey sunk downward and sat in the snow, breathing as if he had been underwater. The frigid air went through their lungs, the smoky scent of the night flooding their nostrils. The stayed there for five minutes straight, every detail around them becoming more and more frightening.
“Darnell, you’re right,” Wade said, hands on his knees. “Hew, we gotta go.”
Hewey put his hands on his hips and cursed under his breath, “Shit… Hang on a minute.” He slung off his backpack and unzipped the small front pouch.
“Hewey, you dumb-ass, are you tryin’ to get us killed?” Wade stood by Darnell's side.
“Hang on,” Hewey slipped out the Snap Pic disposable camera then held it as if it were a family relic. How the hell do I use this thing? The instructions were too small to read in the dark, so he squinted at the tiny pictures on the back. Spin the dial and press the button on the front to charge it or whatever. The camera made a satisfying hiss-click as he pressed the lighting button. A dim red light warmed up near the shutter. Ready for our shot.
“C’mon, you can do this some other night.” Darnell tugged on Hewey's jacket.
Hewey brushed him off and crawled below the living room window, “I'm gonna take a photo and leave. We can’t let this be for nothing.”
Darnell and Wade didn't respond. They just followed, arms crossed over their chest to hold themselves.
Snap-CRASH!
Something shattered inside.
They’re fighting, Hewey though. The ghost is trying to break free but he’s fighting back.
Hewey held the camera over his head and pressed it against the window. He paused, listening to the mumble of a TV nearby.
“Hew, the fuck are you doing?” Wade asked.
“What does it look like?”
Hewey crept his head up. He peaked into he viewfinder and saw the man standing in the living room, talking to a woman sat by a TV. This is it, your one shot.
He clicked the shutter and was blinded.
Light exploded from the camera’s flash and bounced off the window, flooding the pitch-black dark with with a brilliant burst of white. Hewey threw the camera back and fell in the snow, his entire vision a pink-white haze. Wade and Darnell grabbed Hewey's arms and immediately dropped them as they heard something horrifying inside the house.
A shrill, fear-soaked wail.
Darnell lost his need to go to the bathroom and ran, kicking up clouds of snow as he bounded home.
Hewey patted the ground as if he had dropped a contact, “Wade?” He called, arms flailing in front of him.
Wade wrapped his arms under Hewey's armpits and picked him up. “Yes, yes, now shut-up! How much can you see?”
“Jack shit.” Hewey put his finger and his thumb on his eye lids.
Wade wrapped an arm around him and dragged him towards his house. “We can hide ya’ behind my fence till ya’ feel better, now pick up the pace!”
Hewey still had a handout to block anything as they fumbled down the side of the house. Snow jumped up their pant legs as they pushed through the tall grass. It felt as though an icy cat’s claw was scratching their calves and leaving behind numbing trails of blood.
“I'm sorry,” Hewey said, sniffling. “I didn't know that would happen; I just didn’t want to waste-”
“It’s fine,” Wade pulled him up. “Gotta get-”
The front door to the ghost house slammed shut. The two of them stumbled to a run.
“Hey!” They heard the man shout. “I know you’re out there.”
Wade glanced behind him, still running. The man stood in the front lawn, white shirt stained red, holding a flashlight in one hand, a pistol in the other.
Out There: A Rural Horror Story Page 34