Outcasts

by Craig MacLachlan

“As long you’re fine. When did Trevor leave?”

  A text alert sounded.

  “I have to sleep on a cot in their bedroom tonight. Skye, that SUV is parked outside, the black one from your house.”

  “Don’t let them talk to you or your parents.” Skylar became worried.

  “I have to go, Trevor said he was meeting you—coming, mom! Bye.”

  The line went dead, and Skylar checked her now numerous text messages.

  Meet me at 1 p.m. tomorrow at the railroad bridge.

  She answered.

  See you then.

  The next message was from her dad.

  Mom’s doing better. She’s alert. Tests are being done. She sends her love. I’m going to stay overnight. If anything happens, I’ll let you know. We understand your apprehension. Love you, kiddo. P.S. what friend is staying over?

  Skylar forgot she’d told her mom about that. But her mom was so out of it the solution was simple.

  Keep in touch. Give mom my love. Only Haley, but she’s home now.

  Neither her dad nor Trevor replied back, which was fine by her.

  She walked down the basement steps with Morgan’s food. She dumped everything on the floor. Morgan wasn’t in the room, but Skylar heard noises coming from the bathroom. With the blankets, pillow and sheets Skylar created a makeshift bed.

  Beyond exhausted, she turned off the light. Skylar lied down. She wanted to rest, just for a moment. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, but not as quickly as Haley and Morgan could.

  Skylar tried to think, but she couldn’t anymore. There was no rhyme or reason to her thoughts, so she shut them off by imagining a sky full of stars. She started connecting the stars, making images of what she wanted out of life. They consisted of a degree, a house, a baby, and a husband.

  She felt Morgan lay down and their backs were to each other. She wanted to apologize but couldn’t conjure the energy to do it.

  Morgan ran her hand through Skylar’s hair. It was relaxing, loving, and for the first time since her feral years, Skylar connected with Morgan. She bonded with her as a sense of safety and protection which eased Skylar’s thoughts.

  Skylar fell asleep to the lull of Morgan’s cat-like purr and comforting embrace.

  Skylar yawned and stretched. It was still dark, but light filtered in from around the door. She was able to see Morgan’s shape sleeping next to her. With everything that had transpired over the weekend, the school holiday on Monday would be a blessing.

  She spotted the food on the first step of the stairs—a half-eaten apple, an empty container of chicken, aside from a gnawed bone, two empty bottles of water and several banana skins.

  Besides Morgan being hungry, it caused her to consider the location she had eaten from. It was almost like Morgan had been observing her. Watching over her, like a protective parent.

  Careful not to make a sound, Skylar opened the door just enough to slide through. The bright living room made her shield her eyes, but she quickly adjusted. Hungry herself, she started for the kitchen, but halted.

  Skylar sniffed the air. She whirled and faced the stairs. Skipping steps to the top and lunging forward, she grabbed the doorknob to her room and turned it.

  She hesitated.

  The strong odor of chipmunk was beyond anything she ever experienced. The need to feed on the creature was stronger than ever and she fought herself from pushing the door open. Skylar battled her crazed desires, but it was too much. She rushed inside, kicking the door closed with her heel.

  Before Skylar was cleanliness.

  And Death.

  Someone had cleaned her room. It was spotless. Everything was put in its place, the garbage was gone and her bed was made.

  But all lies.

  Two words, The Father, were written in blood, staining the white walls.

  On her bed was a black box with a red bowtie. Next to it sat a plate with an envelope laid over it, held down by the chipmunk carving. To the left of the plate were the flowers and entwined grass. To the right were the other two blood letters in their envelopes, stacked on each other like napkins.

  Shaking, Skylar wiped her lips of drool and took the gift. Ripping off the bowtie, she threw the lid across the room. Staring at her, upside down and dead, was a chipmunk. Pressing the open box onto her face, she stuck out her tongue. She wanted to touch the carcass, taste it, but she withdrew her tongue and clamped her teeth onto it.

  Skylar growled. She wanted to feast so very badly. And, she was angry for having allowed herself to de-evolve. Her weakness for the creature was the strength her feral side longed for. Wildly, she ran around room pressing the box harder against her face.

  She loosened the grip on her tongue, but bit down again in pain.

  A glittering caught her attention. On the desk sat the school camera Carly had loaned her. Sunlight reflected off the camera’s lens.

  Skylar’s eyes were transfixed to the light.

  Opening her mouth, drool ran into the box. The chipmunk slid forward—its fur touched her lips and skin. Skylar held her gaze on the camera. She had come so far in life that she wasn’t prepared to lose everything because of some sick psychopath trying to tempt her.

  Skylar desperately fought off the wild, the untamed. Her growl mixed with a scream and she threw the box at the window. The chipmunk dropped to the floor and rolled to her feet. She circled in place, eyeing the words on the walls, becoming dizzy.

  Stumbling to her dresser, she removed a shirt. Wrapping it around her face, the scent was still strong, so she used two more shirts. Finally, it was bearable, though difficult to breath.

  She lovingly fondled the small carving before dropping it on the bed.

  Her hands shook when she picked up the envelope and opened it. She removed and unfolded the letter. Unlike the last two, this time, there was a paragraph written in blood.

  And it scared the hell out her.

  Skylar Colt, you are Father’s favorite! I created you, Morgan and Haley in my image. Why did you defy me, my daughter? Father loves you. The three of you were to be the beginnings of my new humanity. But you defied me! Defied me! And now, Father must punish you all for the pain you have caused me. Father promises to break you and make you mine again. Come back to me my wild one, and bring your pack. You have five days to decide. Be waiting for Father, all of you, where it all began. If you don’t obey me, suffering, death, and sorrow will rain upon you like the blood of this letter. Just ask your mother! She was a warning. You belong to me, my feral child. My Skye!

  Look out the window, child!

  Skylar’s fingers lost their strength. The letter floated and landed on the plate. Cautiously, she walked to the window and peeked outside. Her teary eyes locked onto her old bedroom window. A message in red was written on it.

  Kidnap yourself, Skylar Colt.

  At first, she was clueless as to the meaning of the twisted riddle, but then she understood. He would come for her, for them, in their closets.

  She opened the closet door. Inside, plugged into the back wall, was the nightlight and stuffed pony she hadn’t seen since she was kidnapped.

  Skylar was weak and she could barely stand on her own. She stumbled backward and fell, but she didn’t hit the floor. Arms caught her mid-fall, and when she looked up, a grim face stared back.

  “It was here,” Morgan said.

  Skylar fainted in Morgan’s arms.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Everyone was dead except Skylar.

  Tamarack Falls was in ruins. Everything in sight was charred, smoldering and destroyed. Vehicles melted into hot pools of liquid metal.

  She walked along looking for any sign of life but found none. The forests had been charred, resembling a barren wasteland, the trees reduced to tall, black toothpicks.

  Skylar screamed and howled, never receiving a howl in response. She had made her decision to disobey, and it had cost her everything.

  More than she ever imagined.

  A deep, menacing howl broke the si
lence. As she ran, the concrete turned hot and gooey and the howling grew closer. She tried to move, but every step took every ounce of strength she could muster. One final howl sounded from behind, ripping through her eardrums. Hot breath seared the skin on her neck.

  Skylar’s Father had come for her.

  Bolting up, sweat rolled down her skin, her breathing labored. Sighing with relief, Skylar listened. The house was silent, and she wondered where Morgan had gone off to. Her phone beeped from the table next to her.

  There was a missed call from Haley, but nothing from her dad or Trevor.

  Trevor. The message written on his window instilled fear for his safety. What he might have been forced to be a part of by whoever lived with him?

  She was worried about her mom too, so she texted her dad and listened to Haley’s message.

  “Oh my God, Skye, I need you! I’m so scared! I was awake! Please, please, please . . .”

  The message ended.

  Haley sounded like she was having a breakdown. Skylar needed to get over there fast before Haley’s parents discovered anything. Hopefully, her friend had heard something with her acute hearing. Checking the time, she only had two hours to spare before she met up with Trevor.

  Calling her dad, she got his voice mail. Leaving a quick message, she went into the kitchen and found the phone book, found the number she was looking for and called the hospital.

  “Tamarack Falls Hospital, how may I direct your call?”

  “I need to talk with my mom. She was admitted last night.”

  “What’s her room number please?”

  “I don’t know. I’m her daughter, Skylar Colt.” She tapped her foot.

  “Hi Skylar, your mom and I go way back. Okay, Colt, Colt, room 111, third floor. Please hold while I connect you, sweetie.”

  There was a series of clicks and then ringing.

  “Hello?”

  “Mom! It’s me, how are you?”

  “Oh, honey, it’s so great to hear your voice. I’m doing okay. Not great, but okay. How are you? I’m so sorry to put you through such a scare.” She sounded more worried about Skylar than for herself.

  “I’m fine, Mom. What did they find out?”

  “Some strange poison from a forest mushroom.”

  “Did you eat one? How did it get into you?”

  “I don’t know, Skye. Your father and I ate dinner over a campfire on the last night. He had gone to gather some firewood while I cooked the stew. He took over the cooking while I got the wine and dinnerware . . .”

  Her mom started coughing.

  “I better let you go,” Skylar said. “I’ll try to see you today.”

  “Please do if you can, but don’t push yourself. I know how scared you are of these places. I’m going to be right as rain and home before you can spit in your soup.”

  Skylar laughed and her mom giggled.

  “Where’s Dad? I tried to contact him.”

  “He was gone when I woke up,” she started coughing badly. “Love you, darling.”

  “I love you too, Mom. I’ll call later. Bye.”

  Skylar’s mind coursed with so many theories.

  The Father. He knew about Skylar’s mom and had made her sick. It was obvious from the letter. Her loved ones were already being subjected to her disobedience. She was thankful both of her parents weren’t suffering because of her. Yet.

  Shaking her head in shame, she knew how the stalker got into her car—it wasn’t locked. She had also forgotten to set the alarm. But how did he get in the house?

  The sliding door!

  Pulling on the door, it slid open. It was unlocked.

  “Dad!” Skylar was angry he hadn’t fixed it yet.

  Walking into the living room, she noticed something different. Breathing deeply, she didn’t smell any chipmunk. What she did smell was the scent of soap and cleaning supplies. Heading upstairs to her room, the odor became stronger.

  The door was open, and she walked inside.

  She spotted Morgan sitting silently in front of the window. Her chin was in her hands and her elbows were on the windowsill. The walls were wiped of blood. There was no sign of the letters, chipmunk or any of the other items. A bucket on the floor contained sponges and dishwashing soap.

  Morgan had been sweet and kind to her again.

  Skylar was about to say something when she realized Morgan was sleeping. She rested a hand on Morgan’s back and expected to see the message written on Trevor’s bedroom window, but it had been wiped clean. She wanted to wake her friend, ask her if she’d seen the words, if she’d seen who’d erased it.

  Tip-toeing away, she almost made it out of the room.

  “I know you’re theres.”

  “Weren’t you just sleeping?”

  “I’m nevers fully asleep Skye,” she answered. “I found it all. It wants us back.”

  Skylar sat on the bed and faced Morgan as she stared out the window.

  “Why do you keep calling him it?”

  “How do know you it is a he? Unless you have sawed it?”

  Morgan’s incorrect word sparked the fact she was sure it was the chainsaw artist.

  And he lived in Trevor’s house.

  Without warning, Morgan leapt from her position and pounced on Skylar, pinning her to the bed.

  “Relax, Morgan.”

  Skylar’s skin tickled as Morgan’s long blonde hair danced on her face.

  “You can’t beat It like this. Weak. I can sense It. Haley has become too scaredy. That leaves only me to beat It and protect my girls.”

  “I can take care of myself. We can be a team, Morgan.”

  Morgan lowered her face and their noses touched.

  “You won’t saves us. You won’t do what is right.”

  “I promise I will. I’m not going to let him hurt anybody.”

  “That promise is already brokens. You just don’ts know it yet,” Morgan hopped off and rested next to her.

  “What is this horrible thing I supposedly did? You and Haley keep referring to this deed or whatever, yet I don’t remember doing anything to hurt either of you!” She was mad and sad.

  “Even It knows and so does he,” Morgan answered bitterly.

  “What did I do? Please tell me. Wait, he?” Skylar said, suddenly confused. “Who is he?”

  “I won’t. You needs to member . . . remember.”

  Skylar wanted to press the issue but didn’t. She couldn’t imagine doing anything so bad to her best friends, her pack. They lay in silence until sunlight again bounced off of the camera. Skylar retrieved it and began looking through the photos. She feared the person in her room may have deleted them as a joke—or in their terms, punishment for not obeying.

  But they were all there. Pointing the camera at Morgan, she took her picture.

  Morgan scowled and rolled over onto her side.

  That was when Skylar noticed a flashing red dot. Looking closely, the screen showed one recorded video.

  Yet, Skylar had never recorded a video.

  Skylar locked herself in the bathroom. From the edge of the tub, she pressed the play button.

  The video began in Skylar’s bedroom. It was dark, and the only sound she heard was heavy breathing. The camera panned around her cleaned room. The items were on the bed, the writing on the walls, and the stuffed pony and night light were inside the closet.

  The person filming went downstairs. A black bear claw opened the basement door and the individual descended the stairs, stopping at Morgan and Skylar’s sleeping forms. The food was still next to the bed. The individual squatted next to Skylar and put the camera to her face.

  A bear claw traced her face and stroked her hair before turning away.

  In the video, Morgan bolted, staring at the figure, who whipped around, but Morgan had lain back down faster. The person’s breathing became louder as he kept the camera on Morgan. He finally walked up the stairs, shut the door and paused the video. It resumed in a new location.

  Skylar
looked closely and the lunatic was in a bedroom that she recognized to be Haley’s. The camera panned the gifts before coming closer to Haley, stopping at her face. Skylar could see Haley’s eyelids fluttering about, scared to open. Lips trembling.

  According to Haley’s message, she’d been awake the entire time.

  The same bear claw traced her friend’s face and stroked her hair. The claw retracted and returned holding a curved knife made from an antler. The tip slid across Haley’s quivering lips, down her chin, zigzagging around her throat.

  The camera flipped around.

  Skylar fell backward into the tub, hitting her head on the tile wall. She winced and stared wide-eyed at the bear looking at her through the video.

  The video ended.

  Skylar’s shook in fear. She wanted to take a hundred showers and scrub the skin from her body. She wanted protection—the police, Debra and Jake—anyone with power. But if she showed them the video, it would put Morgan at risk. It would prove that Skylar had lied to everyone. The last thing she wanted was to be viewed as regressing back to her feral state. The mere thought of being forced to endure rehabilitation again was horrific. But there was a part of her that wanted it—needed it—to delete everything she hated about herself.

  Deleting the video would be her best option, but it also was the worst. It was proof in case anything happened to her, to them. Tomorrow, the pictures and video had to be off the camera before she met with Carly. Her laptop was the only way to keep everything safe.

  Returning to her bedroom, Morgan was still on the bed. They didn’t speak as Skylar turned on the laptop. After some trial and error, she was able to transfer the photos and video before deleting them from the camera.

  It made Skylar feel better, but not by much.

  “It didn’t see me, but I saws It,” Morgan said, sitting on the bed’s edge.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Protection.”

  “He—it, was at Haley’s. There’s something you need to see.”

  “My Haley!” Morgan jumped from the bed. “Shows me.”

  Morgan stayed relatively calm and began to massage the back of Skylar’s head in the spot she’d hit it against the tub wall. Closing the laptop, Morgan walked out of the bedroom. The next thing Skylar knew, the basement door closed with a thud. Morgan was irate and much angrier than she had let on.