by Young, D. M.
“Emma?” she cried, and Josh shook his head.
He jumped to the ground and rolled. Then he called for her to follow. She was afraid her mother would follow them if she didn’t move. She turned and hung from the porch like Josh had told her to. He shouted for her to let go. As she fell, she felt Josh grab her, breaking her fall. He grabbed her hand, and they ran from the yard and into the woods behind the house before stopping. The light was almost gone as they stood there panting.
Josh laid his hand on her shoulder. “I want you to go. Find someplace safe – some grown up who can help. Head down there to Mr. Dennis’s house,” he said pointing. “If you keep going straight, it will be right over the hill. It’s quicker than following the road.”
“You’re not coming?” Gracie cried.
Josh held up his wrist to show her a ragged bite mark. He was losing a lot of blood very quickly. “When I reached for Emma, Mom bit me. I don’t know how long I have, but I’m going to try to make it back to the house. I need to finish this, if I can.” His voice broke. “Be careful. We don’t know if there are more of them out there.”
Gracie burst into tears and threw her arms around him. “I love you. Please come with me!”
Josh hugged her back and then pushed her away. He wiped his eyes, “I love you, too, but I can’t. Now go on. Get going while there’s still a little light left.”
Then she was running again. In the dim light, she tripped over a branch and skinned her knees and hand, but she got back up and kept going as Josh had instructed. Somewhere along the way, Sammy found her and followed her to Mr. Dennis’s house. All of the lights were off. She knocked on the door, but no one answered. What if they were zombies, too? What if whatever had happened at her house had happened to everyone, and she was the only person left?
She looked around, unsure of what to do. Should she keep going, try to find another house? She knew she couldn’t walk to town. Even if there weren’t any other zombies out here, there were plenty of living creatures in these woods. Finally, she decided to hide in the shed until morning. As long as she was quiet, she should be safe. She tried to stay awake, but her eyes became heavy. Eventually she faded off to sleep.
* * *
Gracie finished her story and slumped in her chair. She could see that Edward didn’t believe some of it. He left the room without saying anything, but Gracie could hear him talking on the phone in the bedroom. So he must have believed enough of it to call the cops. Sitting here in the brightly lit kitchen, she began to question the story herself. What if her mom was just sick? Maybe the police would show up and tell her everything was fine. Maybe in a few days, they’d sit around the dinner table and laugh about it, but Gracie didn’t believe that would happen.
Rose made them all a plate, but no one was hungry. After a few minutes, they moved from the table to the sofa. For the first time in days, Gracie felt safe. She missed her family, but she found that she couldn’t cry anymore. She felt empty and numb. She laid her head on the arm of the sofa and let her mind drift. Within minutes, she was asleep again.
A short while later, Rose woke her to tell her that the deputy wanted to speak to her. Gracie sat up and looked around. She could see Sammy in the kitchen. His bloody paws were now clean, and he was happily eating a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. He looked up at her and grinned before returning to his breakfast.
The deputy introduced himself and explained that they had been looking for her. He asked her what had happened at her house. She repeated her story for him. Then the deputy went to his car for a few minutes. When he returned, he told her that he was going to take her to the hospital to see the doctor. Rose said that they would go, too, and the deputy seemed to think that was a good idea. Gracie was tired and sad. All she really wanted was to lie down and take a nap, but she took the deputy’s hand when he offered it and followed him to the car.
CHAPTER 6
Clara Bingham listened as the distraught caller explained that her mother, Patsy Mills, was missing. According to the caller, Mrs. Mills always watered her garden as soon as the sun came up. This morning, she had an appointment at the salon, and her daughter was supposed to drive her. However, when the caller arrived at about 8:45, her seventy-one-year-old mother didn’t answer the door. She went to the backyard to see if she was in the garden and found the water hose still running. Plants were broken, and there was blood everywhere. Now the daughter was frantic. Clara took the address and stayed on the line until the deputy arrived.
Once the call was over, Clara removed her glasses and rubbed her forehead. It had already been a tough morning, and she was exhausted. She hadn’t had a real break all day. She had lived in Hollow Springs all her life, and she’d worked as a dispatcher for over ten years. In all those years, she had never seen anything like today.
In a town like Hollow Springs, murder was almost unheard of, and the whole town was nervous. People were calling in about every little thing. A few missing person calls were yet to be resolved. They seemed to be legitimate concerns, but other calls were just overreactions in response to the day’s chaos. A call about someone prowling around outside a residence had turned out to be a large raccoon that had gotten himself stuck in a trashcan. In fairness, the deputies said he was making a lot of noise in his attempt to escape.
Another call came from a woman whose teenage son was late getting home after running an errand. He wasn’t answering his phone, and none of his friends had seen him all day. He was found a few hours later hanging out at his girlfriend’s house and ignoring his mom’s texts. It had gone on this way all day.
To top it off, Booger James had been in town telling anyone who would listen that it was his monster causing all the trouble. Through the years, Booger had blamed any number of things on the monster, or booger as mountain folks call them. Missing dogs, mauled wildlife, and vandalized homes were all crimes he had attributed to the mysterious Booger of Swindle Creek. He’d been chasing the vicious creature since that fateful night more than forty years ago, when he claimed to have been attacked while fishing down at the creek.
According to the wildlife officer who investigated, it was almost certainly a black bear. The doctors who treated his wounds had noted that Booger was quite drunk at the time of the attack. They said he was lucky to survive, much less remember the finer details of the attack. Nobody could convince Booger of that, though. He was certain a monster had gotten ahold of him, and he’d been hoping to prove its existence to the rest of the town since that night.
Clara heard the door open and looked up to see Sheriff Bill Canton walk in and head straight in her direction. The wiry man wore an exhausted expression on his weathered face. She’d been best friends with Bill’s wife, Susan, since high school. When Susan and Bill married, she’d gotten to know him, as well. In fact, he was the one who had convinced her to take the dispatcher job. Clara thought he just liked the idea of having someone he could complain to. Whenever he was having a bad day, she knew to expect a visit. He couldn’t say much to any of the deputies. They were worse than a bunch of high school girls for spreading gossip.
Clara didn’t mind. Bill was a good man, and he was good to Susan. They hadn’t always had it easy, though. They’d lost their sixteen-year-old daughter, Haley, eight years ago. She was swimming at the lake with friends. They said she jumped off of dock and just never came back up. The police found her body the next day. No one ever figured out exactly what happened, but it was ruled an accidental drowning.
Bill had never really been the same. It was always tough when there was a call involving kids. Nobody ever handled those situations well, but, since Haley’s death, they really got to Bill. Clara knew today must be pure hell for him.
He pulled a chair over and sat beside her. “What the hell is going on out there today?”
“A lot, apparently,” she said, as she turned to face him.
“I’ve got people going every which way. Missing person reports. Deputies shooting people – shooting kids! Brod
y’s laid up in the hospital with a bite right now. You can bet he’ll milk that shit for all it’s worth,” he said. “If these calls keep coming in, pretty soon there won’t be anyone to send.”
Clara looked at him sympathetically. He was probably right about Brody. The man was a first-class whiner. “Yeah, you got your hands full today. I don’t envy you. I don’t know what happened with that little girl, but it’s just awful.”
Bill crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair, “I don’t suppose anyone has called in with news about the Roberts boy, and I just missed it?”
“Nope. That’s a call I haven’t gotten yet.”
Bill sighed. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, he stood up. “Alrighty then. I guess I’d better get back and see what else has gone wrong in the past ten minutes.”
Clara watched him leave as she took another call. Good Lord, she wished this day would end!
* * *
By the third beer, Ray’s bladder needed a break. Going inside meant he might wake Amber so he ducked around the side of the shed that sat behind the trailer. He had just zipped back up when he saw the kid stumble out of the woods. He looked to be about fifteen or sixteen, and Ray didn’t recognize him. At first, Ray figured he was probably someone Amber knew. He looked pretty messed up.
However, after a second, he noticed the dark stains that looked a lot like blood on the front of the guy’s shirt. His face was smeared with it, as well. Something about the way he moved gave Ray the creeps. So far, the kid hadn’t seen him, but Ray wasn’t exactly hidden. He was afraid that movement would draw the boy’s attention, and something told him that would be a bad thing.
The back door was still wide open. Ray was close to the house, but so was the boy. He thought about his old 12-gauge shotgun that was sitting in the bedroom closet, but there was no way he could make it to the gun in time. Besides, there was a very good chance that he was out of shells for it. In that case, he’d do almost as well to find a big branch outside.
His mind screamed for him to run, but he forced himself to stay still. The guy was close enough now for Ray to see his face clearly. Ray didn’t know his name, but he recognized him as Sarah Roberts’ kid. He’d known Sarah in high school. She’d been one of the popular kids. Ray had played football. He was pretty good, too, but his family was dirt poor. So, he and Sarah hadn’t exactly run in the same circles. Still, she had always been nice to him and everyone else, for that matter. As adults, their paths rarely crossed, but, when he did see her, she was as friendly as ever.
Ray studied the young man. Underneath the blood stains, Josh’s skin was gray and puffy. The eyes were blank and rimmed with dark circles. His clothes were torn. There were scratches on his arms and neck, but none looked deep enough to explain all of the blood. There was a pretty nasty wound on his wrist, but that didn’t explain the blood on his face and shirt. Sarah’s kid or not, he looked dangerous. Josh moved slowly, but with purpose. Ray suddenly realized that Josh had spotted the open back door.
Ray thought of Amber asleep in the bedroom. What would happen to her? He was no hero, but he couldn’t just walk away. His mind chimed in to point out that, actually, he could do just that. He was wearing yesterday’s jeans, and while his cell phone was still on the night stand, his keys were in the pocket. Once Josh was inside, Ray could jump in his truck and get the hell out of here before the kid had a chance to follow.
Of course, he’d get help for Amber. He’d go straight to the sheriff’s department and report it. It would take him less than ten minutes to get there. Ten more minutes and they’d be back out here. So, twenty, twenty-five minutes tops, and they could handle the situation while Ray waited safely in town. It was their jobs after all. He didn’t get paid for that shit.
Suppose, though, that the kid killed Amber and was gone by the time the police got there. Who would they blame then? Ray was known for having a temper, and he wasn’t on good terms with the local cops. Besides, Ray didn’t want them poking around in his house. No telling what they might find. He tried never to keep anything incriminating around, but who the hell knew what Amber had dragged in?
For a moment, he stood, weighing the possibilities. As far as he could see, the kid wasn’t carrying a weapon. He was just a teenager and kind of scrawny, even for his age. Ray wasn’t a big guy, but he was still a good bit bigger than the boy. If he could take him by surprise, he should be alright. By the time the cops arrived, the boy would be outside, or, if Ray was really lucky, gone completely.
Josh stumbled closer to the house. He was only a few feet away from the shed now. If the kid turned his head, even slightly, Ray would be spotted. Carefully, Ray took a step backwards. An old beer can crackled beneath his foot. Ray held his breath, hoping the boy hadn’t heard it. Josh paused, swaying back and forth for a few seconds. Finally, he began to move again. Ray let out a silent sigh of relief and watched him climb the steps and stumble through the door. Quietly, Ray followed. Inside the house, he could see Josh nearing the bedroom door.
Ray picked up the baseball bat that he kept near the front door and crept forward, careful to stay out of the line of sight. A moan filled the air, and it made Ray’s hair stand on end. He heard the bed creak, and he guessed that the boy would be facing away from the door. He quickly stepped into the open doorway and saw Josh leaning over Amber. Ray stepped closer, ready to swing, when all hell broke loose.
Ray watched as the boy fell on Amber. She tried to push him away. “Get the fuck off of me, Ray,” she said, her eyes still closed.
The boy dug his nails into her arm and growled. Amber’s eyes flew wide open as he pulled her arm toward his mouth. She screamed as he sank his teeth into it. The flesh tore as she pulled away and tried again to push him off of her. He grabbed her hair and pulled her back toward him. This time, he sank his teeth into her neck. Blood began to pour from the wound. For a moment, Amber’s eyes focused on Ray. She tried to scream, but the only sound that emerged was a wet, gurgling noise. A rush of blood spilled down her chin. Ray had seen enough. He backed away from the doorway, knocking a lamp over in the process. It smashed against a table and then to the floor, shattering the bulb.
The boy heard the commotion and turned to face Ray. His lips pulled back in a snarl. He struggled to stand. Instinct took over. Ray turned and ran, certain that he was actually running for his life. He had the truck started before the boy came staggering off of the porch. As he sped down the long driveway away from the trailer, Ray could see him still stumbling along behind the truck. Then Ray turned onto the gravel road, and his view was blocked by a row of trees.
He wondered how he would explain this. “Oh, hey, this is going to sound crazy, but some strange teenager just randomly broke into my house and ripped my girlfriend’s throat out with his teeth.”
No way they’d ever believe him. They would smell the beer on his breath. He imagined the looks of disgust and suspicion on their faces as they listened. He’d be lucky if he didn’t end up spending the night in the county jail. What else could he do, though? He had to report it. Otherwise, they really would think he did it. Besides, maybe there was still time to help Amber.
Ten minutes later, Ray was at the sheriff’s department telling his story, and, to his surprise, they actually took him seriously.
CHAPTER 7
Matt Conner’s mind raced as he drove. Now that the shock of this morning’s events had worn off, he felt sick. He’d never had to shoot anyone before, and his mind kept replaying the scene. He dreaded going home to his empty house. There would be far too much time to think. For the first time in months, he missed Nicole.
They had divorced more than a year ago. The first few months were hard. Maybe it would have been easier if there had been a good reason for the divorce, but there wasn’t – not really. Nobody had cheated. She hadn’t found someone else. They had just sort of drifted apart.
One day, Matt came home and found her sitting in the dining room. Dinner was ready, same as an
y other day. He made himself a plate and sat down across from her. She listened to him talk about his day for a while, and then, out of the blue, she told him she wanted a divorce. That was it.
There was no yelling or tears. She didn’t seem angry. Matt just didn’t understand. She had never even mentioned divorce before that day. He asked probably a million questions trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong, hoping to fix the situation, but it all came down to one simple fact. She just didn’t want to be married to him anymore.
She moved out the following weekend, and they divorced soon after. Matt kept hoping that something would change. Eventually, Nicole took a job in another state, and he realized it was really over. She wouldn’t come back some day. She wasn’t waiting for him to figure out what he’d done wrong. She was really gone for good. In a way, he was glad to have the closure.
As the months wore on, he managed to let it go, well, mostly. Most days were fine. Some days, he managed not to think of her at all. He had his work. He had friends. He’d even been on a few dates, not that they’d amounted to anything more than an awkward conversation over dinner. He didn’t really know how to put himself back out there, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
His thoughts were interrupted as his phone rang. It was his sister. News traveled fast in a small town, and she had almost certainly heard about the Roberts family. As an English teacher at Hollow Springs High School, Melissa would know Josh Roberts and his family.
Matt answered the call and Melissa’s worried voice came on the line. “I heard about the shooting. Are you OK?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, physically, anyway,” he said.