Rampike

by European P. Douglas

  Later that night, when they were alone in their room, Jarrod could see that Ava was still apprehensive about being there. They had changed into their bedclothes and Ava was sitting on the side of the bed using her reflection in the window to comb her hair. He looked at her for a moment and smiled — that was all he seemed to do nowadays, ever since he first met her.

  “Don’t worry,” he said sitting down behind her and putting a hand on her back. “We’ll be gone straight after breakfast.” The idea of what that woman Sally might serve up in the morning filled him with salivating desire, despite his belly still being full from the dinner they’d recently eaten. Ava leaned back into his hand and paused in her brushing a moment to regard him in the reflection.

  “How long until we can see the ocean, do you think?” she asked.

  “Another few days,” he answered. “Has to be getting close now after all this driving.” Ava nodded satisfied with this answer and went back to her hair. Jarrod rubbed her back once more and then lay back on the bed with his hands over his belly. He couldn’t imagine being more contented that he was at that moment. Soon, while Ava still silently brushed away, he started to drift off to sleep.

  The scream that shook him from the pleasant slumber was the most shocking thing he’d ever heard in his life. He sat bolt up, seeing Ava but not knowing where they were.

  “What? What is it!” he asked standing up and looking around the strange room.

  “Someone was out there!” Ava said taking hold of his arm and pulling her body close to his. She was white and trembling and tears were gathering in her eyes.

  “What? Who?” Jarrod asked as he finally came to know where he was and what was happening — or at least what Ava thought was happening. The lamp was off now but the light of the moon was bright enough that he was getting a clearer look at his surroundings. He looked through the glass to the outside going no closer to it and then put his arm around Ava and guided back to a sitting position on the bed

  “When I turned out the light I saw a face,” Ava said and now the tears came. “It wasn’t like any face I‘ve ever seen!” Her head collapsed into his chest as her torso heaved with sobbing.

  “Don’t worry, darling, it’s alright,” Jarrod said and he rubbed her hair and rocked her back and forth like a child.

  “Did you see it?” she asked looking up into his face to see his reaction.

  “I didn’t see anything,” he said and then with a sigh, “I don’t think you did either, Ava. I think what those men downstairs were saying got into your head and has been playing on your mind.”

  “This was real!” she said pushing away from him suddenly as though he was scorching hot.

  “Ava!” he pleaded.

  “No,” she shouted. “I know what I saw, it wasn’t a nightmare; I wasn’t the one snoring asleep on the bed I’m wide awake!”

  “Alright,” Jarrod said in a soothing calm voice, “I’ll go take a look.”

  He walked to the window and looked up and down outside; there was a clear area for a few yards and then the treeline started and it was a very short distance into that he could see despite the bright moon and the thick snow blanketed everywhere. He made a show of looking for a long time as he didn't believe she had seen anything and even if she had it was most likely one of the local men trying to get a look at Ava in her nightclothes — not something he liked the idea but nothing that worried him a whole lot or made him nervous.

  “Anything?” Ava asked, a lilt of hope in her voice.

  “Nothing,” he said, “and I don’t see any footprints in the snow either.” He turned and looked at her and this final point seemed to be what convinced her Jarrod may have been right after all. Perhaps the story of the man up the hill had scared her so much that when she plunged herself into darkness, she was still seeing her own reflection in the glass and got spooked by it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “Let’s just go to sleep.” She got into the bed as he watched her.

  “You think you’re going to be able to sleep now?” he asked. She nodded vigorously and lay down as if this proved it.

  “Alright,” Jarrod said getting in beside her and taking her into his arms.

  Outside the snow trickled down some more. The ground beneath the window and leading to the woods bore no footprints at all.

  Chapter 7

  Sam Brainard wiped the sweat from his brow and fought back another wave of nausea. His sleeve felt rough on his forehead and the sound was like some factory machine in his head. He looked around at the paltry amount of logs around him and looked up into the sky inhaling deeply as annoyance came into him.

  He’d not intended last night's drinking to be any worse than most nights he spent in the tavern, but he had one more than usual when he was tempted on his way out and that led to a return round and then Sally was spreading some out for free as she did from time to time. The result was the mashing hangover that now saw in his hollow skull, pounding and banging louder than any axe blow Sam had ever laid against a tree. He wished he could vomit but not being able to face a breakfast this morning all but ruled that out. Lifting the axe, he struck again and once more he was almost out of breath with the effort. This was unbelievable — he was a young man in the prime of life who could chop and log trees all day under normal circumstances

  “Fuck!” he shouted into the crisp air and even this had much less power than he’d hoped; the snow all around him dampening the sound of his anger. He spat the tangy saliva from his mouth and watched it dissolve into the blanket by his feet. It would not be a productive day, but he felt he should go on trying all the same. Perhaps he’d feel better in a while and the pace would pick up, he thought. The sweat was back at his brow and though he knew it was not a wise thing to do, he took off his fleece-lined jacket to continue his work.

  The breath of the cold on his body as it seeped through the fibres of his shirt and vest was at once calming and rejuvenating. It was so pleasant that he let his axe down a moment and went to sit on the wide stump of an old elm tree that had been cut down before they were wiped out in the area. Leaning with his elbows on his knees, he looked around again at the snowy wilderness around him and it made him feel better. Despite the extra hardships the snow brought, there was no denying its beauty. Just like there was no denying the beauty of Susan Bloom, he thought. Her creamy skinned face rose up in his mind and the goofy smile that came with it made him giddy and he chuckled at his childish foolishness.

  Sam had liked Susan since the day he came to Mercy, but so far she had shown no interest in him. She was always pleasant and would stop and chat if he engaged her, leaving him feeling on top of the world each time, but never giving him even the hint of reciprocal interest.

  “That doesn’t mean anything, though,” he said aloud. “Women are strange creatures.” He nodded in agreement with his own statement and rose up back to his work.

  As he cut, more slowly than before, he thought more about Susan and he determined that he would ask her out that very day, as soon as he got back to town. Another flush of giddiness coursed through him and he shook his head smiling. How weak he was to control himself when it came to thoughts of her. If only she would say yes that would make things here a whole lot better. A couple more swings of the axe knocked the breath out of him again, and with it the courage to talk to Susan today. He was in no state to be asking anything of her with this hangover. Susan would be apt to run a mile from the smell of the beer that emanated from his skin.

  A noise from back down towards the road stopped him from dwelling on this thought. Sam peered through the trees in an effort to see what it was. As he did the sound of a revved engine in gear change floated up to him. It was hard to make out, but he thought it was sheriff Moorefield’s jeep. He was heading up the hill and Sam wondered where he was going. Then he recalled Joe had been looking about Maul Thorndean and it was most likely that he was going up there to check on the hermit.

  “Better you, than me, Joe,” Sam said looking
after the car the sound receded.

  Sam’s thoughts went back to the day Maul had come to him with the diseased wood and then knocked him down the hill. His back had been covered in bruises for a few days after that. He had told no one in town what had happened but he didn’t know if that was to stop more stories about Maul spreading or because he was embarrassed that he had been so frightened of the old man. He would like to think it was the former, but he felt it was more likely the latter. Though as he thought about it, what did he have to be embarrassed about in that regard? Mouse Allen was fond of talking himself up and was a huge fella and though he talked big when Maul came to town, it was clear to everyone that even he was afraid of the wild man from the top of the mountain. Maybe Maul was like something from a fairy tale, he thought recalling Mouse and Jeff trying to scare that couple who came into the tavern last night. The only people who didn’t seem afraid of him were Joe and Sally, and Sam didn’t know if they were right not to be worried by him.

  The sound of the jeep finally stopped and the briefest moment of silence was punctuated by a creak of wood somewhere nearby. Sam looked around in surprise at the sound but saw nothing. It had sounded like something heavy leaning against one of the younger trunks and that meant it was something of large size. His immediate thought was a wolf watching him from some as yet unrevealed hiding place. Sam could feel eyes on him and he was very suddenly completely unnerved. Clutching the axe he got himself on a firmer footing and looked around, not moving nor making a sound. He stood there like that for the better part of a minute but still nothing else disturbed the silence.

  His heart beat heavily in his chest as he eased up. It was unlikely to be a wolf at this time of day and there was not much to hide behind in this cleared area. If something had been here, he was sure he would have seen some trace of it in that time he'd scanned the ground surrounding him.

  “This bloody hangover has me all over the place,” he said, his own voice a reassuring noise against the thick silence. He looked around again and then thought it odd that no birds had been making any noise anywhere in the forest. He listened out but there was nothing and he looked up into the branches as far as he could see and saw no evidence of any feathered beasts at all. This was unusual, he thought. That it might have something to do with the disease Maul had shown him came to Sam at the very same instant that he saw a cluster of trees whose bark looked white and bleached. He looked around once more and then walked over to it. Feeling the bark, he saw that it was the same as the wood Maul had brought to him. Remembering how weak that had been Sam half raised his axe and let it fall against the bark. To his shock and surprise, the young tree snapped in two with a loud crack and fell. He jumped back though it fell away from him and looked in wonder as it took down two more trees in its fall.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Sam said looking at the site of the felled trees. “If only they were all that easy!”

  Like the prick of a needle on the back of his neck, Sam suddenly felt like there were malevolent eyes on him once more. The surrounding silence made the feeling even more pervasive, and he shot nervous searching glances about in all directions.

  “Who’s there?” he called out and he could hear the nerves in the timbre of his voice and he inwardly cursed knowing that whoever was watching him would know that he was scared. “Maul?” he asked then, knowing that it could only be him. Who else would sneak around in the woods this far from town and not show themselves? It was Maul, he was more sure of it by the second but it didn’t ease his mind to think it. Sam had seen the dark side of Maul in that flash of anger before and he didn’t want to see any more of it. Maul probably considered Sam an enemy now, especially since Sam had not come back to help with the disease in the trees. The thought of this made him look back at the felled trees once more. What the hell was this, and how far was it going to spread? Was it possible the whole forest could soon be wiped out?

  Sam walked back to his pack and took it up, looking around him all the while as he did. He felt afraid and paranoid and he wanted to be out of this place. He consoled himself that it was all part of the hangover and then he could come back tomorrow and get back to work as normal. All he needed was a decent night's sleep.

  As he walked back towards the road where his car awaited him, he could hear creaking and cracking in the woods behind him. It was as though someone was following him and close by, but each time he turned to look he could see nothing and as he got closer to the road, there was less and less for anyone to hide behind. The sounds followed him all the way and even when he was in his car he could still hear it as though it were right beside his open window. It was freaky, and he was scared of it. The sweat on his forehead was greasy with the alcohol emission and he felt nauseous again. All he wanted to do was to get out of here. Taking off the handbrake, he let the car roll down the hill on its own before turning the key in the ignition.

  It felt good to be going away, but he was all the way back into town before he felt the eyes lift from him.

  “Has to be the hangover,” he said as he parked outside his home. Sam went inside and straight to his bedroom and lay down. He had never been delirious with drink before but he had a feeling he had just had his first experience of it up the mountain. He just hoped he would be able to sleep well so he could laugh it off in the morning.

  The last thing he saw in his mind’s eye was a pair of inhuman eyes peering out at him from the darkness of the trees. He knew that it would not be a pleasant sleep but he would have to get through it. Outside the quiet town went on as ever, a car passing by every now and then or the sound of footsteps on the road crunching through the new snow. Sam closed his eyes and sighed into darkness

  Chapter 8

  Even standing outside the sheriff’s office, Joe felt apprehensive about the day ahead. Either way things were not going to go well for him this morning. If, as he feared, something had happened to Maul Thorndean, Joe would be the man to find him and have to deal with it. On the other hand, if Maul was fine there were going to be harsh words coming from him on seeing the law on his land — and with a temperament like Maul’s there was no telling where that might end up.

  The snow had come down steadily all night and there was a covering all around, even the dirty sludge at the sides of the road had been given a new powdered layer making the whole place look a lot prettier than it had been yesterday. No living thing showed on the street and all was quiet. It would be a perfect morning for a short hike up around the old mine shafts but that was not his destiny today. Perhaps tomorrow, if today goes well, he thought.

  Joe checked over his gun and gear one last time, gave the jeep a look over and then set off up the road. He drove slowly, getting a feel for the icy road and looking out left and right into the trees as he went. You never knew when Maul would show up in town and it was as likely Joe could pass him on the way as not. The only thing Joe saw on the way up to the Thorndean place was Sam Brainard’s car parked at the side of the road. It was generally close to this spot when Joe passed here. Sam was clearing a space to build himself a home and had been at it for a long time; no doubt he had plans to marry and hoped this would be something to offer a prospective bride.

  Joe had picked up speed at this point thinking it better to get to where he was going quickly and get it done with. The snow on the road seemed to be thicker further up, and the jeep felt a little unwieldy especially on the banked curves.

  “This could get a little tricky,” he said and hoped that he would not have to walk any of the way.

  About a half-mile from the Thorndean place the gradient steepened and the wheels slipped more often. Joe dropped to a lower gear to combat this and tried to straddle the centre of the road to make use of the slant on either side from that point. Each time the car slid, he thought it would be best to stop and walk, but he persevered, praising and talking softly to the automobile like it was a frightened horse crossing deep water. It was a relief to pull up on the dirt path that led into the woods where Maul
Thorndean’s house lay shrouded.

  As Joe got out of the car and stood there, he was struck at once by the abject silence of the place. There was no noise at all save the hot exhaust of his jeep ticking over as it died down after use. He looked around and was taken aback by just how white everything was here, it looked like the snow had even stuck to the bark of the trees but he knew that couldn't be the case and assumed it was some kind of reflection that didn’t happen for whatever reason lower down the mountainside.

  The beat up ground was hard and crunched under his feet as he walked up what was once the drive to the house. There were two rotted wooden poles that had once held up the gates of the family home. Joe wondered how long ago since any gate was here at all. There was a worn path through the ground but all around was overgrown — or at least would be in summer, now it was all bare twigged bushes and some ground level vegetation. Looking down he saw that the bushes had the same white on them too and he saw now that it was not a reflection — the wood looked old and scarred by fire. He bent down and snapped off a twig and it came off so easily in his hand he barely had to make an effort at all.

  This was odd, but not odd enough to stop him here. Joe walked on along the track and soon saw that all of the trees here had the same white bark like there had been a huge fire but there were no scorch marks anywhere, only this whiteness.

  “What in the hell is this?” he said looking around. There had certainly been no fire; the scale of it would have been visible for miles around if all these trees had gone up. Joe realised that he had stopped walking and forced himself to go on. He couldn't take his eyes from the devastation around him and then as he got closer to the house he saw that all of the trees were leaning in the same way he was going like they had been set to point him to the house. They got lower and lower until they were parallel to ground at only the height of Joe’s chest.