The Tear Collector

by Shawn Burgess

  “Oh shit, that’s Dev.”

  “Tee, give me the bullets.” Bo outstretches his palm.

  Tee digs in his pocket, pulls out the box of ammo and hands it to Bo. While Bo loads the rifle, Robby checks the paintball gun, ensuring that our last best hope still remains ready to fire.

  “Listen, we need to be quiet. Bo, you approach from that way.” Robby points off to the woods on the right of Grief Hollow. “The rest of us will come at it straight ahead. Draw its attention. This thing can be anything it wants to be so be careful. Once we draw it out. Take the shot. Take as many shots as you can. But make sure you don’t hit Dev.”

  Tee throws up his hands. “Or us!”

  “Once you’ve hit it, I’ll take my shot. My shot should stop it from being able to change. Then…we kill it!” Robby’s plan receives a unanimous head nod.

  Bo breaks away from the group and moves on a slant, rifle readied, occasional glances at our position to check his relative proximity. Robby, Tee, and I fan out a few feet from each other and move forward in a line taking precarious steps, scanning the woods for any signs of danger. Sunlight filters through the trees above, muted by swollen summer clouds. Shadows bend through the forest, shifting direction with each subtle change in light, deceiving our shifty eyes with false movement. And after a few more steps, it comes into view. We catch our first glimpse of Grief Hollow through a tangle of twisted trees, the gnarled trunks jutting from the earth like arthritic fingers. We scamper forward, fleet-footed, to a partially fallen, uprooted tree and crouch behind it.

  I peer past the log. Tannish water burbles through Copperhead Creek. The fire-scarred oak behind it shrieks for attention, its bony limbs encased in a sticky, glistening mass of white filament that fastens at multiple points to the largest branches of the tree and appears strung from multiple heights. My astonished eyes follow three massive flaps of spider webs, shaped like inverted isosceles triangles, as they stretch tight from the branches and taper to singular spots of attachment on the forest floor. A large ball of the silky web, suspended from the ground ten feet or so, undulates with life. My eyes enlarge as it wriggles.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Looks like spider webs,” Robby whispers.

  “Oh, hell no. I hate fuckin’ spiders.” An animated shiver passes through Tee’s body.

  “No, I mean the thing hanging down.”

  “Help,” Devin’s muffled voice calls out from the hollow.

  I try to ascertain where his voice originated, but the echo effect of the hollow makes it challenging. But as the web sac begins to squirm again, set in motion to a gentle rock, another of Devin’s muffled cries rings out. This time I’m certain it came from the suspended web sac. I point to it frantically.

  “That’s him. That’s Dev! He’s in that thing.”

  “How the hell are we going to get him down?”

  “We’re going to have to worry about that after, Tee. First, we gotta draw this thing out. Then, Bo shoots it. Then, we take it out.” Robby delivers the words with the nonchalance of reading off the instructions for assembling a bicycle.

  “How do we draw it out?” There’s a shiver in Tee’s voice.

  “We go towards it. You and me, Tee. Make a bit of noise.”

  Tee whips his head around to me, his eyes growing big and round like a startled doe. “Wait, what? Robby’s the one with the gun.”

  “Robby can’t be the one to do it. He needs a clean shot. He’ll never get it if we don’t go out first.”

  Robby nods in agreement.

  “So, we’re supposed to go face this thing with nothin’, man? Nothing to defend ourselves?”

  “Not nothin’, Tee. Bo. Bo’s going to shoot it,” Robby whispers.

  “Bo? Bo…are you serious? I’m supposed to trust my life with that sack of shit? Who’s to say he ain’t run away already? Left us for dead.”

  “That’s Dev right there.” Robby points to the suspended sac with boiling eyes. “You gonna help our friend or what?”

  Tee lets out a huffing sigh and kicks a bit of dirt with his foot.

  “Fine, I’ll do it.”

  Tee and I creep forward toward Copperhead Creek, careful to secure our footing on the forest debris as we descend into Grief Hollow. My stomach climbs to my throat, hollow and empty, a heaving churn. As the ground begins to level beneath our feet, I call out. “Dev.”

  “Brooks!”

  “You okay, man?” I shout the words louder than necessary as Tee and I arrive at the opposite bank of the creek, situated less than twenty yards from Devin.

  “I’m okay. But it’s her! It’s her! You were right. I saw her. Samantha Mellinger! It’s her.” The sac starts swinging more frantically.

  “Where is she, Dev?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t see. Get me out of here, Brooks.”

  “We’re gonna get you…Oh shit!” Tee screams, as a giant spider-like creature bursts from underneath the sand on the other side of the creek. Heaps of sand slide from its grotesque body, its fangs raised like onyx daggers. Tee staggers backward, tripping on an exposed tree root and plummeting to the forest floor. I hold my ground, terror just another passenger on the adrenaline train speeding through my body, as the spider rises on its legs high in the air. It spins around on nimble, wiry-haired legs to face us. Tee backpedals from his butt, all four desperate limbs working in unison to power his retreat.

  “NOW!” I scream.

  A high-powered gunshot rings out and an explosion of goop from the spider’s waxy abdomen crests high into the air. The spider swivels on churning legs as another gunshot rings out, this time from an even closer distance. A tall splash of water fountains from the creek where the errant bullet strikes. Robby tramples through the woods behind me, closing the distance to Copperhead Creek. An ear-deafening blast rings out. A millisecond later, one of the spider’s eyes explodes as the bullet connects. It hobbles backward, gravely wounded, a low hiss coming from its gaping maw. Robby runs past me splashing into the water of Copperhead Creek as the spider’s legs teeter, before giving, collapsing it to the sandy earth.

  As Robby runs into position, the spider summons its strength and rises, towering high above him. He takes aim and fires, grazing a few inches above the spider’s wounded eye. The paintball explodes on its exoskeleton, the green fluid flowing into its open wound. A violent shudder ripples through its body as Robby runs back across Copperhead Creek. Bo fires again, the bullet slashing through one of its legs. The spider, body undulating, begins burying itself in the sand under a furious torrent of churning legs, heaps of sand hurled high into the air. A moment later, it disappears. Bo comes running, rifle in hand.

  “Oh shit! Is it dead?” Tee shouts.

  “I don’t know,” I call back, a quivering modulation in my voice.

  “Somebody get me outta here.”

  Bo kneels and takes aim at the top of the spindle holding the sac suspended. An echoing bang rings out in the hollow and the silky sac plummets to the earth. Robby and I rush to it, tearing at the sticky webs, pulling Devin from the silky prison, his eyes filled with joyous relief.

  “It’s her! It’s Samantha Mellinger! I saw her!”

  Tee shouts again from the distance on the other side of Copperhead Creek. “Did we kill it?”

  Robby shakes his head, his voice crackling. “I don’t know, man.”

  My wide eyes lock with Robby’s.

  “You hit it. Hit its eye.”

  “You left me. Left me in the quarry.”

  “Sammy?” Bo’s brows furrow.

  “That’s right. You left me, Bo. What? Ain’t we friends?” Sammy steps out from behind the oak tree and takes a few steps toward Bo.

  “Oh, shit man! It’s not dead! It’s not dead!” Tee screams frantically, pointing to the reincarnation of Sammy.

  “Sammy. No. We’re friends.” Sammy closes the distance between them.

  “Get away from him, Bo! That’s not Sammy!” Robby screams, but it’s too
late.

  Sammy extends an arm and grabs Bo by the throat, lifting him from the ground, his fingers delivering a crushing amount of pressure to Bo’s trachea. The rifle drops from Bo’s limp hands to the earth below. Tears roll from the corners of Bo’s eyes. Sammy’s gray, putrid tongue extends from his mouth and stretches nearly a foot to Bo’s face, where it slides up his cheek before retreating to his mouth.

  “Jesus!” Tee screams.

  “What do we do?” I scream. It’ll kill us all! No way to stop it!

  Sammy smacks his mouth a couple of times and utters, “Rosaline Davis.”

  Bo’s confused eyes cloud with darkness, his face strained, growing ripe as a cherry threatening to burst from its skin. His chest spasms with each unsuccessful heave for air.

  “Join your kinfolk!” Sammy rejoices maniacally, a horrible smile thinning his lips.

  With an abrupt turn of his wrist, a sickening crackle echoes through the hollow, and Bo topples to the earth, lifeless, as Sammy releases him from his vise grip. Sammy turns to me. “And now you, Broo—”

  Another crackle of gunfire rings out, striking Sammy in the chest. He stumbles backward and clutches his chest, eyes blinking in a frantic flutter on his wound. His eyes gape wide as the changes in his body begin. He erupts into a violent convulsion, body undulating, beginning a change of form—features of Sammy melting away, new features emerging. Our eyes ricochet off one another. Who the hell else has a gun? Detective Holt and Brady Palmer storm into the clearing of Grief Hollow.

  “YES!” Tee screams, pumping his fist in celebration, exalted with our sudden change of fortunes.

  “Back up boys.” Detective Holt takes aim and fires again, this time striking Sammy in the leg.

  The changes begin to accelerate. Within moments, no semblance of Sammy Needles remains. Samantha Mellinger is dragging herself away, her body in anguish. She stops at a rut left behind by the spider and digs into the earth with trembling hands. She reemerges clutching a jumbled pile of small bones. She cradles the brittle brown bones tight to her festering chest, her ghoulish-gray body heaving in a couple of quick sobs as she gazes upon them. Our mouths loll. Her head rises at Detective Holt’s approaching footsteps. Her empty eyes fill with venom.

  “Your blood is owed.” She coughs the words out with a glob of black sludge. “Your murderous kin!” She spits her words like acid.

  She bares yellowed teeth at us, drawing rapid, shallow breaths through them. “I curse you. I curse you all. You drowned my baby Lawrence. My infant son.” She rapid heaves a couple of breaths and sniffles before her eyes sharpen and cut into us. “Curse you. Curse your family. He wasn’t no bastard. He was my baby. Your kin. And you killed him. Stole him and killed him.”

  She resumes dragging her quivering body through the sand. She finally collapses with her baby’s bones at the edge of Copperhead Creek, her shaking hand dropping into the flowing water, fish curling around her putrid skin for a nibble. She nestles the infant’s skull to her putrid bosom.

  Detective Holt marches to her, gun in hand, his stride accentuated with anger. Samantha Mellinger’s cold black eyes lock on his, venomous hate spewing forth. She grins, parting thin gray lips, gnashing yellowed teeth.

  “If they burn, they won’t return, Detective.” Her throaty voice trails off before her eyes glaze to dial tone. No one left on the line.

  Detective Holt places the muzzle against her temple and pulls the trigger. Boom. Her head recoils before falling still. Copperhead Creek runs red with the blood of Samantha Mellinger, coiling over the rocks and swirling down the creek. I run to Brady and give him a giant hug. You’ve got to be kidding me. Yes! But how? I can’t believe Brady found us!

  “How’d you know to find us here?”

  “Angela,” Brady answers with smiling eyes.

  Tee comes running to us, his hands gesturing wildly with his words. “But how? How’d he kill it?”

  “Professor Wadlow’s formula. In the bullets. Detective Holt put it in his bullets.”

  Robby’s brows lift. “He knew?”

  Brady nods. “Yes, I told him everything.”

  Devin tilts his head at Brady. “But he arrested you.”

  “It was all part of the plan.” Brady grins.

  Tee strides up and gives Brady a huge embrace, a gigantic smile plastered across his face. Tee’s grievances for Brady seem to crumble in the elation of that moment, and on that foundation of rubble, a genuine acceptance grows in its place. I join in the hug, followed by Robby and Devin.

  “I thought we were dead.” Tee’s eyes leak tears, his smile stretching the entirety of his face.

  “We were dead,” I echo, and Tee starts chuckling. And before long, laughter proliferates amongst the entire group.

  Samantha Mellinger’s body disintegrates into a black mist that dissipates moments later, leaving behind a small pile of brown bones, most no bigger than twigs. Detective Holt holsters his gun and shakes his head.

  “How the hell am I gonna explain this?”

  Holt strides over to us. Eying our jubilant celebration, he clears his throat as if to say, pay attention to me.

  We look at him, all smiles.

  “Listen up, boys. You weren’t here today. You know nothing about nothing. The last few days didn’t happen. Got it?”

  “Yes sir,” we respond in unison.

  “And Brady, I’ll make sure the record’s set straight. Your name cleared. My word carries a lot of weight in this town. And I just found some exculpatory evidence.” Detective Holt motions with his eyes to Bo’s body.

  “Thank you, Detective Holt.” Brady gives Holt a firm handshake.

  “Now get on outta here, boys.” Detective Holt shoos us with his hands.

  We all give each other another lingering group hug, drawn immeasurably close. Turning, looking over Grief Hollow one last time, I feel elated to be alive. And happy we’re together. We turn and walk out of the hollow together, forever bonded by our shared experience. And no one else would ever know.

  Chapter 59

  Two Months Later

  A CERTAIN SADNESS pervades the air of the morning. As much as Tee and Angela engaged in sibling skirmishes through the years, he hates for her to go. For a time, he longed for his rise to king of the castle, master of this domain, a quasi-only child. But they grew so much closer the last two months, serving as each other’s trusted confidants—their parents grown suspicious of their constant whispering. And they giggled off their parents’ confusion, the truth never could be revealed about the events that brought them so much closer, so they shared that, an enduring secret, something only they could understand. And they liked it that way.

  It seemed like an eternity away, time measured in summer, long days, no school, limited responsibility. But the day has arrived. Brady’s there to see her off too. Angela’s changed her plans. She’s still going to college, but she’s not planning to find cute fraternity boys anymore. She’s found a boy here in Harper Pass, the same one that lay locked in the depths of her mind all of these years. And though they’ll be separated for a time, the two plan to shorten the distance between them with phone calls and weekend trips.

  Angela wraps her arms around Brady’s neck, pulling him in close, kissing him deeply.

  “Gross! Cut it out guys.” Tee gives his sister a playful nudge on her shoulder, but he’s unable to suppress the smile bubbling up.

  Angela uncoils from Brady, fingers still interlaced with his as she pulls away, smile draped across her face, happy as she ever remembers in her life.

  “Let me just get my last bag.” Angela heads for the door, a skip in her walk as she returns inside the house.

  Moments later, she calls out from the living room, her voice carrying outside the door.

  “Tee. Hey, Tee. Come here a sec.”

  Tee hustles into the house. Brady stays behind, content to let Tee enjoy a moment alone with his sister to say goodbye. Angela’s in front of the television when Tee makes it into the room.r />
  “Hey, Tee.” She points to the screen. “Isn’t that the girl you went to school with? The one who was missing?”

  “Yeah. Oh my god, yeah! That’s Margo! Turn it up.” A contented smile crosses his face.

  Angela raises the volume on the TV, and Kasey Norton continues with her reporting.

  “Folks, it’s not that often I get to report on a story like this. One with such a happy ending. If you’re just tuning in, we’ve just seen a miracle. Margo Combs has been reunited with her parents after being lost for over two months. Somehow, against all odds, this special needs child found a way to survive by herself in the wilderness. Truly a miracle.”

  The desk anchor cuts in as the camera pans to Jim and Linda Combs. Tears of joy stream their faces as they walk Margo to their car.

  “Great reporting as always, Kasey. Channel Four is sure going to miss you and your reporting. I know most of our viewers already know this, but we’re so proud of Kasey. Our very own Kasey Norton has been called up by our affiliate in Cincinnati and will begin reporting there on Monday. We’re sure going to miss her here, but we know she’ll do a fine job in her new assignment.”

  “Thanks, Tom. I’m going to miss you guys too.” Kasey blushes. “And I’ll miss our Channel Four audience.”

  As Jim and Linda Combs help Margo into the backseat of the car, the camera pans in closer. Margo’s head bobbles in the backseat. As the car begins to pull away from the curb, she turns her head, glaring out of the rear window. As the camera focuses in closer on her face, a subtle flash of blue swirls through her eyes, and the car drives away.

  Acknowledgements

  There are many people I wish to thank for their contributions to this book.

  First to my beautiful and supportive wife Kirsten, who never complained as I locked myself away for days in the revision process, thank you. Thank you for believing in me and for sacrificing so much for my dream.

  To my mom Vicki, and my sister Nikki, I’m grateful to have you in my life, and I can’t thank you enough for all your support.

  To my nephew Tristan, my wonderful mother-in-law Shawn, and the many Beta readers who provided valuable feedback on this novel, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You will never know what it meant to me to have you selflessly spend your time reading my story.