Sligger Island

by Michael Yowell

  Sherrie and her cook got the restaurant all cleaned up and ready for the next day’s customers. Then they exited and Sherrie locked it up. She gave Cinch a kiss on the cheek and bid him a good night.

  Starting her car, Sherrie thought about her daughter again. She pulled her phone and tried to call once more, and still the call went directly to Eaver’s voicemail. Sherrie grunted and tossed the phone into her purse. She put the car into gear and drove away.

  She decided to swing by Mason’s house to see if they were home. Steering onto his street, she saw his modest Colonial coming up on the left. It was a cute country cottage, powder blue trimmed in white. Sherrie immediately noticed no lights were on inside. And Mason’s blue Mazda was not in the driveway.

  “Where are you kids?” Sherrie mumbled to herself, frowning at the house.

  The dark house stared emptily back at her. After a minute of the standoff, Sherrie pressed the accelerator and continued down the street.

  She wondered if perhaps the kids were somewhere downtown, maybe having a drink or simply having a late evening walk. She headed into town. Once she was on Main Street, she drove slowly and searched for Mason’s car. It was after nine, so most of the businesses were closed for the night. Sherrie focused her attention on the few taverns there. Several cars were parked on the side of the street in front of the bars, but Mason’s was not one of them. A couple of pedestrians wandered the sidewalk. Looking closer, Sherrie discovered they were not Mason and Eaver.

  Sherrie exhaled forcefully. She was frustrated, upset, thwarted. Where else would they go? she wondered. They did say they were going boating yesterday, and their friend Danny had a boat. Perhaps they were with him.

  She navigated the town’s few side streets back toward the coast, heading for Danny Young’s home. Once she arrived at the white, two-story residence, she was relieved to spot Mason’s vehicle on the side of the dirt drive.

  “Oh thank God,” she said out loud, elated. As she drew nearer, however, disappointment once again settled on her brow. No lights were on here either. “Are you kidding me?”

  She parked her car and stepped out to get a closer look. Walking to the front porch, she heard nothing but the cicadas and crickets chirping in the night. She peered into the windows to see pitch black, confirming nobody was home.

  The concerned mother returned to her car. A bad feeling swept over her. But not knowing where else to look for her daughter, Sherrie realized she had to surrender the search. Deflated, she drove home to settle in for the night.

  CHAPTER 16

  The rain had arrived. It was cold and hard, pelting the group mercilessly. They were grateful to have what little organic cover they had brought up the hillside. Eaver held up the brushy branch covering her head and looked down at the dark beach.

  “The fire’s out,” she noted. “That got doused pretty quick.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Mason, “it’s not like people were gonna see the smoke at night anyway. We’ll find dry wood tomorrow and make another fire.”

  Danny crossed his fingers. “As long as we make it through tonight.”

  “Amen,” said Eaver. She prayed the monsters roaming the island at night would not climb the peak and discover their position.

  The waning moon was partially covered by clouds. Enough of its light shone down to allow the group to see the wet landscape. They could see rainwater washing steadily down the rocky slope below them.

  The rain was loud. Heavy drops smacked the rocks around them, as well as the leafy branches over their heads. The cacophony of the leaves being hammered seemed to amplify the group’s discomfort.

  “This sucks,” Mitch sulked. “I’m shivering up here.”

  “I know,” said Mason, “but this is where we’ll be the safest.”

  Danny looked at Mitch and chuckled. “There’s a nice, warm, dry cave down there if you want,” he said jokingly.

  “Fuck you, dude,” Mitch replied with a grin.

  An hour later, the rain had not subsided any. The clamor of water spattering down around them was as loud as ever.

  “This is like a monsoon,” Mason griped. The misery of being cold and wet had finally broken him, and he was now as gloomy as Mitch. “I can’t take much more of this. Maybe we need to find another place to hide.”

  “Where?” said Eaver. “The whole island’s getting drenched. Sure, the woods might provide a little more shelter, but guess what else is probably in there?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mason snarled, “I know. But Mitch is right; this sucks.”

  “It does.” She placed her cold hand on top of his. “We can get through this, though. We have to, baby.”

  Mason brought his eyes to hers. She was right. They had to suffer through the cold rain and stay alive for each other. “I love you, Eave,” he said. She smiled it back to him.

  Another hour passed. The rain was still pouring down, trouncing the hapless group that was huddled together on the peak.

  “This may go on all night,” Danny stated.

  “If it does, it does,” said Eaver. “Get closer, we gotta stay as warm as we can.”

  They squeezed against each other tightly to share body heat. By then they were so cold, however, that there was no warmth to share. At this point the goal was just to keep from getting any colder.

  Eventually Mason submitted to his fatigue. He closed his eyes and slept.

  He dreamed he was gliding through the air, over a vast body of water. His special ability was that he could fly. Mindful that gravity was pulling at him, he had to continuously exert himself to keep flying above the surface. Mason looked down, noting he was drooping closer. The waves below were dark, viscous. Almost gluey. He knew he had to stay out of that water; something bad was in there. He strained to get higher. But despite his efforts to stay in the air, he was losing altitude. Falling to the water was inevitable; it was only a matter of time.

  “Hey, hey, what’s that?”

  The words snapped him awake, and he opened his eyes to see Mitch pointing down the hill. Mason focused on the wet landscape, seeing nothing but the shine of rainwater on the rocks. “What is it?” he asked.

  Mitch did not blink. “I think I saw something move down there,” he whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the rain.

  “Oh shit,” Eaver mouthed. Her eyes darted everywhere, seeing nothing but the motion of rain falling and bouncing off the rock. No slimy monsters coming for them.

  After a minute of uneventful watching and waiting, it seemed Mitch was mistaken. The group exhaled. “False alarm,” said Mason, keeping his voice down.

  “Thank God,” Danny said, his pulse still racing from the scare.

  They sat tightly together and gazed out through the rain. This was going to be a long night. They were cold, shivering, drenched, miserable. Mason thought about closing his eyes again to sleep through the anguish.

  Then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

  Adrenaline shot through Mason’s body. He tapped the others and held a finger to his lips, signaling to them that he had seen something. The crew leaned forward and focused on the slope below them.

  Something was moving among the rocks. Something smooth and dark, its wet form reflecting the scant light from the moon. It looked to be about thirty feet away. And now the group detected the faint but familiar odor of rotten eggs.

  Nobody moved a muscle. Their eyes were wide with fear, their mouths clenched shut. The hunting party was out for them. The creatures had probably rummaged through the woods first, after the sun went down, and had now expanded their search to the peak. They were so close now.

  Please, Lord, begged Eaver, don’t let them see us, don’t let them see us.

  A second shape was moving, about ten feet to the left of the first. Both of them were working their way up the hill, methodically searching together. And they were heading straight toward the hiding prey.

  The first beast stopped for a moment, then slowly raised its hideous head. The moo
nlight revealed two huge, black eyes and a mouthful of long teeth opening wide. A loud hiss came from the creature’s throat.

  It saw them.

  With a sudden push of its tail, the creature charged forward. It had difficulty moving up the steep incline with its stout legs, and had to rely on the assistance of its tentacles to help move it along. But the beast adapted quickly to keep its pace on the terrain.

  “Fuckfuckfuck!” shrieked Mitch, springing to his feet. Their makeshift cover of branches separated. The others stood with him, holding their brushy tree limbs.

  Eaver felt like she was going numb. But her need to survive overpowered her terror, and she hurled her tree branch at the oncoming attacker. The thick limb struck the beast just below its head, knocking it off balance. Trying to regain its bearings, the creature lost its footing on the slick rocks and tumbled down the hill.

  The second monster was now coming at them. Mason reached for his primitive spear and held it in front of him. He gripped the wet stick as tightly as possible, bracing for what was to come. As the aggressor reached striking distance, Mason plunged the spear forward. The jagged end of the branch punched through the monster’s tough skin. Mason could feel the resistance give way when the tissue popped open.

  The creature reared up, its tentacles flailing wildly. The screechy hisses it bellowed indicated that it was in serious pain. Mason stubbornly kept his hold of the spear as the beast convulsed. Careful to avoid being snagged by the venomous claws, he grunted and pushed the spear deeper. He let go as the monster fell backward. The injured creature fell down the slope with the branch embedded in its midsection.

  The first creature was back, pulling itself up the rocky slope with angry purpose. A third monster was now visible, coming up right behind its brethren.

  “Jesus,” said Mason, the dread of their impending death blanketing him. They had little left they could use to defend themselves. But anything was better than nothing. “Keep ‘em away however you can!” Mason directed, turning his cover branch around to point the broken end at the enemy.

  The group tightened up, standing together. Eaver stayed firmly against Mason, while Mitch and Danny were on either side holding their spears out. The aggressive monsters reached them within seconds, whipping their appendages at their quarry. The crew desperately swung their branches to fend the monsters off.

  One of the tentacles wrapped around Mitch’s ankle. He instantly felt the constriction, much stronger than he could have imagined. The next thing he knew, the back of his head struck the hard ground and he was being dragged downhill.

  “Mitch!” Eaver screamed.

  The two creatures took hold of the writhing victim, one at each end. Mitch cried out while they squeezed, dug, and tugged with their clawed tentacles. One of the beasts had him by the throat. It pulled Mitch’s head while its partner held his legs. His cries were choked out. The others watched in helpless horror; they could see the skin of his neck stretching and then they heard a stomach-churning pop.

  Mitch’s squirming ceased immediately, his body lifeless. The beasts continued ripping him apart to make sure their prey was dead.

  This was the only chance the others would get. They needed to get away from there before the creatures resumed their attack. “Go to the trees!” Mason yelled, knowing that was now their best chance. “Go, go, go!” He and the rest ran past the monsters and down the hillside.

  It was a treacherous descent. The group had to be extremely accurate when placing their feet on the wet rocks while maintaining their speed. They focused on each rapid step, desperate to make it down the slope without falling and being taken by the atrocious pursuers. The creatures were giving chase, but had difficulty moving downhill with their builds. The group was able to put a little distance between themselves and the monsters.

  Upon reaching the base of the hill, Mason headed for the beach. The others stuck close to him while he plodded through the sand and into the grassy woods. They had to reduce their speed a bit once they were in the darker environment – there was less moonlight and more obstruction.

  Their hearts pounded the adrenaline they needed through their bodies. But they were still starting to tire. The group slowed down to a jog. They could not stop to catch their breath, however, because the monsters were surely coming after. They continued trotting toward the familiar cypress trees in the swamp.

  By the time they reached the marsh, the thrashing of brush could be heard behind them. The creatures were catching up. The sounds spurred them on.

  “Get up the tree!” said Mason. “Just like last night!”

  They ran through the shallow water to the large tree they were in the night before. Eaver jumped for a lower limb. She held on and started pulling herself up. The group heard the loud splashes of their pursuers getting closer. Mason grabbed Eaver’s feet and hastily pushed to help her. Then he followed her up the tree, using the same branch. Finally it was Danny’s turn to ascend. Mason and Eaver stepped up to the next branch to give him room.

  Just as Danny was about to spring, a tentacle whipped around his waist and pulled him backward. The cold appendage brought him down hard into the shallow water.

  Eaver went numb. “Danny, no!”

  Two beasts were instantly on top of him, the strength of their slender tentacles holding him down. Despite the flailing, kicking, and screaming, the monsters brought their smooth heads closer. Then the creatures opened their wide jaws and began to feed.

  Eaver screamed hysterically at the horrific sight of their childhood friend being eaten alive. The beasts ate quickly, taking greedy bites of flesh. It took a minute or two for Danny to die. Eaver was quaking from having witnessed the traumatic event. She hoped Danny’s shock had masked the pain of such a violent death.

  The creatures then turned their attention to the humans in the tree. Keeping their bulbous eyes locked on their targets, they clawed at the tree and tried to pull themselves up the wet bark.

  “Go higher!” Eaver cried. She and Mason climbed a few branches farther. They got as high as they could, until the denser growth made them stop.

  Unable to scale the tree, the monsters grew frustrated. They started slamming their bodies into the tree to shake their prey out. Mason and Eaver felt each impact.

  “Hang on!” said Mason, unnecessarily blurting the obvious.

  Two, three, then four more monsters emerged from the dark woods.

  “Jesus,” Mason said shakily, seeing the additional animals. “No matter what, hang on tight. Don’t let go of the tree.”

  “Okay,” she nodded, still trembling.

  He looked directly into Eaver’s eyes. “Don’t let go, baby.”

  The cluster of attackers rammed the mighty cypress. The tree shuddered, but stood strong. Not dissuaded, the creatures continued their assault on the tree. They were intent on obtaining their quarry.

  “I love you, Eave,” said Mason.

  “I love you too,” she burbled.

  The couple kept their arms and legs wrapped around the cypress. They prayed their muscles would hold up all night. Clinging tightly to the tree, they held on for dear life.

  CHAPTER 17

  They had never been so happy to see the sun. Every muscle in their bodies was numb after a hellish night shivering in the rain and holding fast to the tree. The warmth of the sun rising above the trees was instantly felt. It was good. They craved it like a drug, needing as much of it as they could get.

  The creatures had retreated. They left sometime before the sky began to brighten. Mason looked down, thankful that the beasts had taken Danny’s body away with them. What was left of their friend was not something he and Eaver wanted to see in the light of day. Instead the marsh below was vacant.

  “Should we get down?” asked Mason.

  Eaver shook her head slowly. “No, those things could still be hiding down there,” she said through chattering teeth. “And I can barely move my muscles – we wouldn’t be able to outrun them.”

  “Okay,
” said Mason. She had a good point, and his body was probably as immobile as she claimed hers to be. He was fine with the idea of remaining in the branches until the sun was higher. More time to absorb the soothing rays until the heat melted away some of the strain from their trembling bodies.

  It must have been an hour later when Eaver felt good enough to move. She stretched her arms upward, making sure her muscles were ready. She was still stiff and sore, but eager to be on the ground again.

  “Okay,” she said, “wanna try our luck down there?”

  He did. Mason was dying to get back to the beach to start another signal fire. “Yeah, let’s go.” He lowered himself from the branch to the trunk, then shimmied down the bark. When he was close enough to the ground, he dropped away and his feet landed with a splash.

  He remained still for a moment, watching the trees and bushes around him. As he had hoped, no creatures were there to come after him. Satisfied, he brought his attention to Eaver. “Okay, Eave,” he said, “come on.”

  She followed the path he took down the trunk. Mason watched her, keeping his arms steady in case she slipped and fell. Eaver made it to the ground without incident. Then she bent her knees to test her legs. They were loose enough for walking.

  “Now what?” she said. “Back to the beach?”

  “Yes. We need to get that fire going again. The sooner the better, and then just pray somebody at sea will see the smoke.”

  “Right,” Eaver nodded in fervent agreement.

  They started back through the marsh, stopping for a badly needed drink. Moving the tiny, green pods to expose the fresh water, they cupped their hands and drank deeply from the gritty marsh until their thirst was quenched. Then they trudged through the woods and made their way to the beach.

  When they reached the sand, they looked into the pit they had dug for the fire. They were dismayed when they saw the wet, black paste that used to be hot ash, but they knew that was what they would find. They would have to create a new fire from scratch.