by Platt, Sean
But he didn’t want to talk, not about the shed, nor all the missing people, nor the talking trees, nor where his father might be (definitely locked in the shed), nor anything else.
Andy just kept on pacing and pretending to shoot.
Until dusk, when he parked himself back on the couch, staring out the wide window on the east side of the cabin at the emptiest available view. A long swath of land relatively vacant of trees.
“What are you looking at?” Liz asked, though he usually wouldn’t say.
Andy turned from the window. “The storm is coming.”
The, not A. She wondered if that meant anything.
She swallowed. “Is it—”
Purple lightning lit the sky before it turned back to black.
“What’s happening?” Liz asked as if he could possibly know.
“I have to go now. Not for long. It’s the only way to stay safe.”
“What?” Something was happening to his eyes. “Junior — Andy, what’s happening to you?”
He couldn’t answer. His eyes might as well have been missing. His head was fixed in one place, but she couldn’t even call it staring because his pupils had no focus. Two drops of chocolate sitting in two tiny piles of snow. He was just sitting there on the couch, but her son may as well have leaped out of his body because nobody was home.
Liz looked out the window and widened her eyes to the biggest tornado she had ever seen. Surely the biggest tornado anyone had ever seen.
“We’re not safe here. We need to go.” But Liz was only talking to herself.
She hobbled over to Andy, still sitting on the couch, passed out with his eyes wide open, and started searching his pockets.
Empty, empty, empty, bingo.
Liz closed her hand around the key, feeling like she might start crying as she attempted to dash toward the back door, settling for an aggressive limp with an uncooperative limb that still managed to close the distance in no time.
She opened the kitchen door, then slammed it shut in surprise.
The entire world was screaming.
She braced herself, then opened the door again. Pushed herself down the three steps. She wobbled on her feet, then forced herself forward. Made it four embarrassingly short strides before she froze, turned around, and headed back toward the cabin.
It didn’t matter how famished Anderson was. With all those guns on the coffee table, she would be a fool not to protect herself. Even with the purple lightning crashing. Even with history’s biggest tornado now on its way.
Back inside. Andy was still comatose. Her knee kept wanting to quit on her.
She surveyed her choices. She chose a pistol, hoping it was loaded, but unsure how to check and not about to sit around experimenting now.
Liz limped back outside, her knee screaming as she shoved her body against the cold rain and harsh wind.
She was chilled to the core and shaking when she made it to the shed and slipped the key into the lock. Howling rain screamed all around her, and the sound of the tornado, like a train with all those strange digital-sounding animal voices screaming inside it, was deafening.
Dirt and debris flew in every direction around her.
But despite her (alien) son waking up any moment, plus all that lavender electricity and raging murderous wind, Liz couldn’t make herself turn the key.
What if something worse was waiting inside?
The rain was furious, beating down on her. The wind was shrieking as if alive.
“Liz! Is that you?” Anderson shouted from inside the shed. He sounded even worse than earlier.
She couldn’t answer.
There was something moving in the corner of her vision, at the tree line to her left. Not just one something, but several somethings.
The bear monster, with three friends that looked like even more horrifying versions of itself.
Then, to her right, more shadows.
Something flashed by, maybe debris, though it might have been the devil himself.
Her fingers trembled. She wanted to turn the lock and let Anderson out — even weak as he surely was, he might be able to protect her — but she just couldn’t do it.
“Are you out there?”
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yes, but please … please open the door! The storm … we need to get inside the cabin.”
He sounded so weak. It yanked on her strings. She turned the lock and pulled—
“Don’t do it!” Andy was suddenly behind her, close enough to hear over the screaming wind.
She turned around. “Why not?”
She glanced at the sky. The world behind him looked like it was tearing apart, and would rip them to shreds. How soon before the tornado tore the cabin apart, before it took them?
“That’s not Dad in there.”
“I talked to him, Andy. I already know—”
“No, Mommy. You talked to a monster. If you open the shed, then the monster will kill you!”
All this time, Liz had been looking at Andy and seeing his father. But looking closer, Liz now saw the truth. It was her just as much as Anderson. Maybe more. She was the one with the fucked-up head.
She was the delusional one.
She was the one who had passed on all the inherited traits she was looking at right now.
She tried to shout over the storm, to promise Andy that everything was going to change, that his father would never hurt him again. But her words were lost even as they left her mouth, torn asunder by the storm even as it seemed to ever so slightly retreat, or perhaps move to the east a bit, maybe buying them a few extra minutes.
One more try.
She screamed over the wind and thunder and rain. “We can’t leave him in the shed! He’ll die …” Then something he might care more about: “They’ll arrest you, or both of us. You don’t want that … do you, Andy?”
“You don’t understand, Mommy!”
“What don’t I understand?”
Liz closed her eyes, unreasonably hoping that might influence his answer.
“You talked to a monster, Mommy. Don’t open the shed. Or the monster will kill you.”
“Well, sometimes we don’t have any other choice but to face our monsters.” Liz turned around, undid the lock, unhooked it from the chain, then stepped back from the door.
“No, Mommy!”
Liz had to ignore him, much as his fear twisted a knife in her gut.
She opened the door, expecting Anderson to come charging out like a freshly groomed puppy. Instead, he kept lying there broken like a malnourished dog. His clothes were stained with urine and shit. The roof must have had a few holes the way he was soaking.
“Thank you,” he whimpered.
“Anderson, get up … let me help you.”
“No, Mommy! IT’S NOT HIM!” Andy was suddenly behind Liz, grabbing her by the arm, a gun in his other hand, aimed at Anderson. “If you get any closer, the monster will kill you!”
Liz didn’t slam the door back closed, but her hand was on the wood, and she was ready to.
“He tried to fucking kill me!” Anderson yelled, moving from his knees to his feet.
“Don’t move.” She aimed her weapon at Anderson.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving you.”
“Aren’t there—”
“I’M TALKING!”
Liz shook the gun and let him know with her eyes that she’d empty it into him if he made her, same as she had made him raise his voice or his fists or his general ire too many times in their past.
She talked without turning, crooking her mouth to the side. “Get back in the house, okay, Andy?”
“The storm—”
“That couldn’t be more obvious, honey. That’s why I’m gonna need you to go inside. I promise I’m safe here. But the sooner you go, the sooner I can take care of things and follow you inside. Okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
She waited a few beats until he was gon
e, then returned her full attention to his father.
“I’m leaving, and I don’t want anything more to do with you. This has nothing to do with what happened between you and Andy.” He looked up at her with what appeared to be inhuman hate in his eyes. “Do you know why I was in such a good mood on the way up here? Because I knew that after a couple of nights at the cabin, I could finally be rid of you. But instead, all of this bullshit went down, none of which—”
“He tried to kill me.”
His eyes were pleading, but she was afraid that he was only buying time, waiting for the right time to strike her down, take her gun, and do whatever he needed to do to finish this. Muting his rage to keep her from pulling the trigger. She backed away to ensure he couldn’t get to her before she fired.
Cold rain stung her eyes, but she kept them open, squinting, but aware enough to counter Anderson’s move.
“It’s my job to find out what happened from our son, and your job to forget it ever happened.” She shook the gun again. “Do you understand me, Anderson?”
He nodded, and she added, “I know you’re willing to say anything and plant evidence if you need to, so if you try and have me arrested, then I might as well kill you before they come to get me.”
“Fine, Liz. You win. Let’s get in the cabin and get safe before that giant fucking tornado makes this all a non-issue. You keep the kid away from me until the storm dies down, then we go our own separate ways.”
“You can’t expect me to coddle him, Anderson. He’s a man now. Andy does what he wants.” She waved him out of the shed, keeping her gun level with his head, not really knowing what she would do if forced to pull the trigger.
Anderson yelled over the howling wind, “I’m just saying, I don’t know where he’s disappeared to, and if he’s waiting with a gun or something on the other side of the door, then I’d prefer it if you asked him to please not shoot me.”
“You’ll be fine,” she replied with no emotion.
“And while we’re at it, can I ask you to please lower your gun. Might I remind you that you’re armed, and I’m not. Not to mention—”
“Fine, but—”
Anderson was on her immediately.
He smacked the gun from her hand before knocking Liz to the ground. Except the thing that was Anderson, was no longer Anderson.
She scratched at his face. Its skin shucked back like an orange peel curling away from the fruit. The thing — the monster — was liquid and black, writhing under its skin, mending the human-looking flesh even as Liz continued to madly scratch at it.
Now on her, the monster almost appeared to be playing, like a cat with a half-dead mouse.
Its body pressed down on her, maybe so Liz could feel its unrelenting power. It was almost beautiful, all that pure energy and the lights inside its oily black flesh. Something about it was lulling her into a dream-state.
Liz had to remind herself that it wasn’t beautiful; it was a monster.
She screamed at the top of her lungs.
The monster opened its mouth to reveal many rows of razor-sharp teeth, shaking and rattling in its undulating flesh as the circle became more solid, and the teeth formed a perfect circle of sabers designed to slice flesh.
The creature let out a long clicking, a cross between the sound her son had been making and a distorted electronic pinging.
That single second lasted forever.
Liz was sure this was it, still not ready to die but already accepting of the brutal truth that she had no other choice.
Purple lightning crashed as thunder rolled across the earth — or perhaps it was the tornado chewing the world around her.
But then something momentarily muted the thunder.
A BOOM! from right behind her, blowing the enemy off of her body.
She rolled to the side and groped for her gun.
Grabbed it, then got back to her feet.
She spun around in search of Anderson, who, by the sound of it, had already skittered away.
The sky was filled with lightning. So many shades of purple.
Thunder that sounded like the earth opening up.
Deafening explosions that were somehow even louder than the booming behind her. She watched in horror as the tornado’s winds ripped the bear monsters into the sky.
It would take them next.
She grabbed her son and pulled him toward the cabin. She doubted the cabin could be much safer than the open, but it was something.
As they made their way toward the cabin, the Anderson Monster came at them.
Both of them fired into the creature.
It shrieked, clicking and skittering away, but nowhere near dead.
“Come on!” Liz screamed, continuing toward the cabin.
They were twenty feet away, so close.
The monster came at them again, liquid flesh becoming scarily solid as it loped like an alien jaguar, coming closer and closer, its front paws, or hands, forming long-bladed fingers.
Andy fired until his gun was empty.
Liz tried to line up a shot, but she couldn’t take one without risking hitting her son, so she refrained as the creature charged past her, shrieking, and tackled Andy.
They fell to the mud as lightning spread like a spiderweb above them.
She screamed out as the monster stood over her son, gnashing its teeth and staring down, making that ungodly clicking as if delighting in his fear — or feeding on it.
It would kill him if she didn’t act.
She raised the gun, limping towards it, and screamed, pulling the trigger twice, aiming right at the back of its head.
Both shots missed.
More lightning, coming closer, hitting the shed and setting it on fire.
If the monster didn’t end them, the lightning might.
She fired again. This time hitting it in the back.
The monster turned toward her, not affected, and she wondered why it had pretended to be trapped in the shed. Surely such a tiny little structure couldn’t hold a creature like this.
She watched as Andy ran toward the cabin, hoped he would be safe.
Liz ignored the agony in her knee as the monster forced her backward.
It snarled, mostly slobber, followed by a few unintelligible syllables, then finally a blend between something that sounded evil and alien amid a handful of scar-infused words she’d already heard too much of in her life.
Bitch, whore, cunt, worthless, stupid, cow—
The monster attacked, its mouth opening wide, then wider, and eventually to a ghastly width that could fit her entire head inside it.
For the second time — for the last time — Liz knew this was the end.
An open mouth full of teeth came down onto her skull and—
Its head exploded alongside a deafening BOOM!
Black goo, and what might have been alien blood, painted her face and body.
Andy dropped his shotgun and ran to his mother.
He fell to his knees, and she pulled him close as the rain continued its assault. They cried as the tornado’s howling winds roared around them.
“I’m so sorry for not believing you,” she cried into his ears, holding him close, pressing him into the ground, putting her body over his.
As she pressed him into the mud and heard him sobbing, she remembered her twelve-year-old promise to always keep him safe.
So much for promises.
The end was coming for them, and there was nothing she could do but hold him and pray.
Debris swirled around them, chunks of earth, rocks, and trees hitting her body like hail, harder and harder until something smacked her head so hard she passed out.
Eighteen
October 31, 2011 …
Liz woke up back in her cabin bed, dim light bleeding through one of the curtains. The window was open. And she heard the most amazing sound outside, birds chirping.
At first, she thought she was dead or dreaming. But as Liz tried to sit up, the pain in her ribs imme
diately told her she was very much alive. Badly bruised all over, but, somehow, still breathing.
She cried out.
Footsteps coming.
“Mommy?” Andy said, bursting into tears as he entered the room. “You woke up. Now you’re not gone anymore.”
He looked at her with a face full of sadness.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Why did you take all the weather for me?”
“Because that’s what a mother does. I didn’t even think it would work. I just needed to put myself between you and harm as best I could.”
“Thank you, Mommy.” He handed her two painkillers and some water.
She took one and thanked him, swallowing the water even though it burned her throat.
“How long was I out?”
“A few days. I was getting worried. There was still too much gone outside.”
“How many is a few?”
“Thirteen. Happy Halloween, Mommy. Trick or treat!”
She laughed. “The last thing I want to see is more monsters.”
“They’re gone now. I think. For now.”
“The trees tell you that?”
He nodded.
“But they also told me something else.”
“What’s that?”
“Not everybody is gone. There are other people out there like us. And I think I can find them.”
“What about Colette? Did the trees tell you anything about her?”
He shook his head. “No. Sorry.”
“What about your father?”
“The monsters ate him.”
She stared at him, and he frowned.
“I’m not crazy.”
“I know,” she said. “I spent all this time worried about you because you were different, afraid you wouldn’t fit in. But now I have this feeling that you’re going to be just fine.”
“We’re going to be just fine.” Andy smiled, and for the first time since they left for their vacation, she had her son back.
Liz had a lot to process, but like her son, she felt mostly grateful that she wasn’t insane. Her husband was dead, and there really were monsters or something supernatural out there. The world had changed. Something had happened to it. People were missing; it really seemed like the two of them might be alone out here. And everything inside both her and Andy agreed that it wasn’t just the woods around them.
