Dead Voices

by Katherine Arden

Coco felt a jolt of terror. But then she realized that the person had real hands. Not garden tools. She wasn’t dreaming; this wasn’t a scarecrow.

  Mr. Adler wasn’t slowing down. “Stop!” yelled Coco, yanking herself upright. “Look! Look!”

  Mr. Adler slammed on the brakes. The car skidded, turning sideways, swinging them toward the thick black ranks of trees. Coco braced, waiting to hear the thump of someone slamming into the side of the car. The person had been so close . . .

  Nothing.

  The car shuddered to a stop, only a couple feet from the nearest tree trunk.

  All of them sat stunned for a second.

  “I didn’t feel us hit anything.” Mr. Adler sounded like he was taking deep breaths, trying to be calm. “What did you see, Coco?”

  Coco was startled. “You didn’t see it? There was a person in the road! We must have hit him!” Her voice sounded squeaky. She hated when her voice sounded squeaky. Had they hurt someone? Had they killed . . .

  Ollie’s dad put on the emergency brake and turned on the car’s hazard lights. “Kids, I need you to stay—” he began, but Ollie had already unlocked her door and scrambled out into the snow. It came up to her knees. Brian was right behind her on his side, and Coco, although her hands were shaking, hurried after them.

  “Coco!” cried her mom as she and Mr. Adler followed. “Coco, don’t look, get back, be careful—”

  Coco pretended not to hear. She grabbed her phone, went around the car, and shined the light at the snow. Brian was doing the same. Ollie had pulled a headlamp from the pocket on her car door. The three of them stood shoulder to shoulder, shining their flashlights all around the car. The snow was falling so thickly that they couldn’t see anything outside the circle of their lights. Faintly, Coco heard the whisper of wind in the pine needles overhead.

  Mr. Adler had a flashlight from the glove compartment. Coco’s mom stood next to him, squinting into the snowstorm. Four beams of light shone on the snow. The road was utterly empty. Coco saw the tracks where the car had come down, saw the huge sideways mark of the car’s skid. But nothing else.

  “I don’t see anyone. Any tracks, even,” said her mom. “Thank god.”

  “But I saw someone,” protested Coco. “In the road. A person. They had their hand out.” She raised her own arm, palm out, to demonstrate. “They were wearing a blue ski jacket, but no gloves. Ollie, did you see?”

  “I thought I might have seen something,” said Ollie. She sounded doubtful. “Like a shadow. But I wasn’t sure. There’s so much snow. Brian?”

  Brian shook his head. “But,” he said loyally, “Ollie and I couldn’t see out the windshield as well as Coco, since she was in the middle.”

  Coco’s mom gestured at the snow, which was unmarked except for the car’s tracks and their own footprints. “I don’t think there was anyone here.” She started to shiver. They’d all taken off their heavy coats for driving, and now the snow was piling up on their shoulders.

  “I saw someone,” Coco insisted, but the others, eager to get back into the warm car, weren’t listening anymore. She hurried after them. “I definitely saw someone.”

  “It might have just been a shadow, Tiny,” said Brian reasonably. “Or a deer. Or maybe you were just dreaming and you mixed up being asleep and being awake.”

  “I wasn’t imagining things!” cried Coco, wishing so hard that her voice wouldn’t squeak. “And don’t call me Tiny!”

  “But there’s obviously no one—” Brian began.

  “Hey,” said Ollie’s dad, cutting them off. “Easy now, both of you. Just be glad we didn’t hit anyone. Let’s get back in the car. It’s not safe here.”

  Coco climbed unhappily back into the car. She felt like everyone was just a little bit mad at her for yelling stop so that Mr. Adler had to slam on his brakes and send them skidding dangerously across the road. She was sure she’d seen someone.

  But she had been half asleep. Maybe she did dream it.

  As they drove away, Coco turned around and looked out the back window.

  Just for a second, she thought she saw a dark figure lit red by the car’s rear lights. It stood facing them in the middle of the road. One bare hand was still upraised.

  Like a plea.

  Like a warning.

  “Guys,” she whispered. “It’s there. It’s right back there.”

  Ollie and Brian turned around.

  There was a small silence.

  “I don’t see anything,” said Ollie.

  Coco looked again.

  The figure was gone.

  Coco shivered. She opened her mouth to say something else. But before she could, the car was grumbling up the mountain once more and they had left the gully behind them.

  A minute later, two yellow lights shone through the trees. Maybe it was just because Coco was shaken up, but she thought that the lights looked sinister. Like eyes peeping. Waiting for them. She wanted to tell Mr. Adler to turn the car around.

  Don’t be silly, she told herself.

  “Look!” said Brian, pointing. “What’s that?”

  “Must be the lodge,” said Mr. Adler. He sounded relieved. “We’re almost there.”

  They drove under a new, hand-carved sign lit by two old-fashioned gas lamps.

  Eyes? Right, Coco thought. Just lamps.

  MOUNT HEMLOCK RESORT, said the sign. A MOUNTAIN OF AWESOME WHERE WINTER NEVER ENDS.

  “That’s some weird grammar,” commented Ollie.

  No one said anything else. The resort drive was the narrowest road they’d driven on, and the most thickly piled with snow. The Subaru’s motor whined horribly as Ollie’s dad pushed down the accelerator. The driveway turned, and the car skidded slowly sideways, almost going into a spin. The wheels couldn’t bite.

  “Dad—” Ollie began.

  “Not now!” snapped her father in a tone Coco had never heard from Mr. Adler. He changed gears, managed to keep the car from skidding, and then they burst out from the driveway into a snow-covered parking lot. Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief.

  After the long, cold drive, the sight of Hemlock Lodge was like Christmas morning. Warm golden light blazed out of the windows. Well, some of the windows.

  “We made it,” said Brian happily.

  They could barely see the building in the snowy darkness, but Coco thought it was big. It had a—presence. It loomed over them.

  “Shouldn’t there be more lights?” asked Ollie.

  “Power must be out,” said Coco’s mom. She tugged the end of her blond braid, considering. “They’re running on generators. Can’t light everything.”

  “I can hear the generators,” said Brian.

  Mr. Adler drove across the parking lot and parked under an awning. Coco could hear the generators too: a slow, roaring noise, like the building was breathing.

  “Well,” said Mr. Adler, “parking lot’s empty. Looks like we were the only ones to make the drive.”

  “There might be others stuck on the road somewhere,” said Coco’s mom. “Hopefully they get to shelter. Another hour, and we’d have gotten stuck ourselves. Next time let’s listen to what the radio has to say about snowstorms, hm?”

  “Deal,” said Ollie’s dad, and he sounded like he really meant it. “Come on!” he added to all of them. “We made it, all present and accounted for. Grab a bag. The sooner we get out, the sooner we get to bed.”

  Ollie and Brian fumbled for the door handles and stumbled into the freezing night. All of them padded sleepily into Hemlock Lodge.

  Coco stopped dead right in the entrance, staring. Ollie plowed into Coco and had to catch her so they both didn’t fall. “Coco, what—” she began, and then she saw what Coco had. “No way.”

  “Holy cow,” muttered Brian. “Where are we?”

  The only light in the lobby was from a big,
roaring fire. Shadows leaped and swung across the walls; you couldn’t even see the ceiling. But the walls were completely covered with heads. Dead animal heads. Coco spotted a moose head with Christmas lights wound through its antlers. A deer head—a lot of deer heads—hung in a cluster. There was a trio of raccoons in a small canoe with paddles. A stuffed fawn in a glass box. Four coyotes looked like they were howling at a fake moon. A black bear stood on its hind legs, its paw upraised.

  In the flickering firelight, they seemed to move; their glass eyes shone like they were alive. The bear had sharp white teeth.

  “Nice decorations,” said Brian uneasily. “Great spot your dad found.” There was a giant bearskin rug on the floor. Its claws were shiny in the firelight.

  Ollie stepped around Coco and marched into the lobby. “It’s great,” she said pointedly. Ollie always defended her dad. Coco would have too, if she’d had a dad as cool as Ollie’s. Coco had never met her dad. He’d left before Coco was born.

  Ollie waved at the heads. “Some people like this kind of thing. And we’re not here to hang out in the lobby, we’re here to ski.”

  Brian brightened. “Yes, we are,” he said. His green ski boots were draped over his backpack; he reached behind and patted them again. Brian loved all gear, for all sports. Especially his own gear. He and Ollie would go on endlessly about tuning skis and sharpening ice skates. Sometimes Coco wished that she liked the things her friends liked. Pirate books and winter stuff. She’d have more to say when they were talking.

  Two people, a man and a woman, had been standing by the front desk, waiting for them. Now they hurried forward, clattering across the lodge. They were smiling, freckled, happy. Coco was really glad to see them. They made the lobby seem a lot more normal.

  “Oh, you made it, I’m so glad!” said the woman. She was thin as a greyhound, sandy-haired, with cheery welcome written all over her face like she’d painted it there. “You must be Roger Adler,” she said to Ollie’s dad. “I’m Sue Wilson. You’re the first guests to arrive—a lot of them probably didn’t set out at all! What a storm! Sorry about the dark.” She waved a hand at the lobby. “We thought the fire would be enough. Electricity’s out, and we’re trying to save on propane in case we’re snowed in for a couple of days. Plenty of firewood, though!” She turned to the kids. “You can call me Sue.” She smiled at Coco. “You tired, hon?”

  Coco was used to adults calling her hon, sweetie, and darling. Adults who didn’t know her mostly seemed to think she was about eight years old. It was the pinkish hair. She really wished she’d get that growth spurt.

  “Yes,” she said politely, gritting her teeth. “I am. What happened to the electricity?”

  “The storm,” said the man, coming forward. “Wind blew trees over the power lines somewhere or other.” He had a beard as big as Mr. Adler’s and wore a Christmas sweater. A little belly hung over his belt. “I’m Sam Wilson,” he said. “Me ’n’ Sue own the place. Pleased to meet you. I guess you saw my little critters.” He waved a hand at the wall. “Bagged ’em all myself! Lemme take those.” He swept up all three of their duffels before they could respond. “Now,” he said. “Enough chitchat. You must be tired. Stairs are this way. Sorry the elevator’s not working. Power’s out and all. Come on. Welcome to Hemlock Lodge.”

  Coco followed him gratefully, glad to get to bed and away from the animal heads.

  “Big storm out there, Sue,” Coco heard Mr. Adler saying. “Should make for some good skiing tomorrow, but it was a tough drive.” He raised his voice. “Good night, kids! Be good.”

  The adults kept on talking, but Coco couldn’t hear what they were saying. She padded up the stairs with the others.

  They stopped on the second floor. The stairs opened onto a long dim hall. The only light was from a few wide-spaced wall lamps. They cast pools of feeble yellow light. Must be part of saving on propane, Coco decided, keeping it so dark. She tripped over the last step and lurched into Ollie, who was weighed down by her own backpack and nearly went over.

  “Coco!” whispered Ollie. She didn’t usually get mad when Coco was clumsy, but they were all really tired.

  “Sorry,” Coco whispered back. “It’s hard to see.”

  They began the long trudge down the hall. Coco watched her feet carefully, trying not to trip again. “I’ve got you girls in the bunk room,” Sam called over his shoulder. “You”—Brian was it—“are right across the hall. Far end of the hallway. Follow me.”

  The hall seemed to go on forever. It was chilly. Coco hoped their room was warmer.

  Sam stopped at a door that said BUNK ROOM in big brass letters.

  Behind her, Coco heard more footsteps coming up the stairs, shuffling along behind them. Must be her mom and Mr. Adler, going to their rooms. Coco looked back. “Good night, Mo—” she started to say.

  But her mom wasn’t there. The hall was empty.

  No—what was that? Near them was a pool of greenish light, thrown from one of the dim emergency bulbs. Cast across the light was a person’s shadow. A big broad-shouldered shadow.

  One shadow-hand was stretched out toward them.

  Like a plea.

  Like a warning.

  A chill ran down her spine. “Mom?” Coco called just as their door swung open; Sam flicked on a battery-powered lamp. Light flooded the hall, and the shadow vanished. There was definitely no one there.

  Coco thought then of the strange figure in the road and, for some reason, of the long hallway in her dream.

  Her heart beating uncomfortably fast, Coco followed Ollie into the bunk room.

  2

  “BATHROOM’S JUST DOWN the hall,” said Sam, pointing back the way they’d come. “Hope you guys like it in here. What a snowstorm, huh?”

  It was. Ollie was glad they’d made it. She was even happier about their room. The bunk room was a lot warmer than the hallway. The lamp shed a bright, golden light. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow, with a wooden bunk bed, red blankets, a rocking chair, and a big mirror over a dresser. Pictures of skiing bears hung on the walls.

  Ollie dropped her backpack by the dresser, knelt, and began digging around for a toothbrush and pajamas. “Want the top bunk?” she asked Coco. Coco loved climbing and being up high. Ollie hoped the top bunk would make her friend feel better. Coco was still looking worried.

  “Yeah,” said Coco gratefully. “That’d be great.” She unzipped her own bag.

  “You girls sleep well,” said Sam from the doorway. “Need anything else?”

  Ollie and Coco shook their heads.

  “Night,” said Brian, and he and Sam both went across the hall to Brian’s room. Ollie closed the door behind them.

  “Should we brush our teeth?” Coco asked. She didn’t look excited about going back into the dark, chilly hall. Ollie wasn’t either. But she didn’t like having fuzzy teeth.

  “In a sec. Wait for it,” said Ollie.

  “Wait for what?”

  “Three, two . . .”

  Brian popped back into their room.

  “Right on time,” said Ollie.

  “Mr. Wilson’s gone back downstairs,” said Brian. “What do you guys think? About the lodge, I mean. I think it’s kind of freaky.” He sat down on the lower bunk bed. “I mean—those heads?”

  “I think it’s freaky too!” said Coco. “I saw—” She bit her tongue and sat down on the rocking chair without finishing her sentence. “Never mind,” she muttered. “Just a shadow.”

  “Lodge seems great,” said Ollie firmly, still digging into her bag. “Well, except for the heads. I’m with you on that.” She pulled out a box of her dad’s cookies and passed them around. “These will make you feel better. The Wilsons seem nice. It’s not their fault the power is out.”

  “But it’s so dark,” said Coco. She took a cookie. “Couldn’t they have more generators? To make it less dark?”<
br />
  “They’re trying to save on propane. Like Mrs. Wilson told us,” Ollie said reasonably.

  “Hope we can ski tomorrow,” said Brian. He was on his feet again, at the window, peering out like he was straining to see the ski mountain through the storm. Brian loved to ski. “Listen to that wind.” Ski lifts could operate on backup generators, but not in high winds.

  They all went silent, chewing their cookies. The wind had a voice. It whined and howled and whispered around Hemlock Lodge. Ollie saw Coco shiver. She’d never been totally on board with the skiing. That was okay, Ollie told herself. Tomorrow they’d show Coco how much fun it could be.

  “It’ll be better in the morning,” Ollie said aloud. She licked crumbs off her fingers. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

  “Yeah, I hope so,” said Brian. He turned away from the window. “Group mission to brush teeth now? Or do you guys want to go out into that creepy, chilly hallway one at a time?”

  Ollie and Coco shook their heads. Since October, none of them had liked being alone in the dark. It wasn’t that they were afraid, exactly. But they had learned that bad things could happen to you. At night. Alone. In the dark. Not that there was anything bad in the hallway, Ollie reminded herself. But the three of them still stuck together. They’d been sticking together ever since they’d run the corn maze and escaped the scarecrows and met the smiling man.

  Sometimes Ollie, Brian, and Coco argued. Sometimes they annoyed each other. But they stuck together. Even for little stuff. Like going to the bathroom down a spooky dark hallway. Coco was looking a lot happier. “Yep, let’s go together,” she said.

  Ollie was so glad she had her friends.

  * * *

  —

  That night, Ollie dreamed.

  In her dream, someone was pulling at her sleeve.

  “Go ’way,” Ollie murmured. Even in her sleep, she wanted to sleep. But the tugging kept on.

  A small voice whispered, “Please, can you help me?”

  Dream-Ollie opened her eyes. She saw a girl about her own age standing by her bed, dressed in a long white nightgown. The girl’s face was in shadow. The whole room was full of shadow and moonlight. “Can you help?” whispered the girl again in a thin, scratchy voice. “No one else wants to help.”