by Rick Hautala
During the day? Sure.
But not when it was getting dark. She and her friends had told themselves too many horror stories about the evil things that lurk in the darkening woods and would gladly eat you.
Goblins…ghosts...and demons…
But if Samael was here, he’d protect me, she thought.
But that was just the problem.
He wasn’t here, and he was exactly one of those things she had been afraid of when she was little.
She realized that she had to face these fears now all on her own.
Like life…
Samael wouldn’t be doing this to her…not if he loved her.
No one who loved someone would put them in a situation like this without warning.
“For the last time!”
“…time…”
She looked to the west, at the streaks of purple clouds in the rapidly darkening sky.
“Come on out!”
“…on out…”
She tried not to think about how she had never…never been out here after dark, even as a teenager.
“I know you’re hiding.”
“…hiding…”
She heard the nervous quaver in her voice and told herself that, if she didn’t start back for the house soon, it would be pitch dark by the time she got halfway home.
It’s already too late, a voice whispered in her head as those old fears rose up like phantoms all around her. She half-expected to see ghostly shapes, drifting in the gathering gloom.
Trembling with fear, she started back along the path. The snow glowed with an eerie blue light. The footsteps she and Samael had made on their way out here were as dark as inkwells punched in the crust of snow. Claire’s boots made loud crunching sounds as she walked…sounds that, when she was a kid, she always imagined were the grinding teeth of something—
A demon!
—coming up behind her, wanting to catch her…and eat her.
She followed the winding path, tension winding up steadily inside her; but then an idea struck her. Reaching into her pocket, she took out her cell phone and hit the speed-dial number for Samael’s phone. She’d tell him a thing or two if he answered.
The phone rang once…twice…and on the third ring, he picked up.
“Hello?” he said, sounding his usual chipper self.
“Where in the Hell are you hiding?” Claire said. She didn’t want to snap at him, but she wasn’t able to stop herself.
“Hiding? What are you talking about?”
Now there was the hint of a frantic edge in his voice, and his question all but knocked her off her feet.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the office,” Samael said. “I’ve been calling you all day, but every time, your phone goes straight to message.”
Her breath was burning in her lungs, and the darkness closing in all around her made it impossible to breathe deeply enough. It took her a moment to realize that the heavy thudding sound she heard was her pulse in her ears, not the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps.
“Hold on…Hold on,” Claire said, fighting confusion. “You’re telling me you’re in Portland?”
“I’ve been here most of the day, cleaning up some loose ends, but now I’m home. Your things got delivered, by the way. When are you coming home?”
Even through her panic, Claire’s heart warmed to hear him say the word “home” to her.
“But we…you and I drove up to Houlton, to visit my parents. We’ve been on the road all day.”
Claire’s eyes widened as she looked around at the darkening forest. The cold breeze blowing through the trees froze her face. She looked up at the skeletal branches of trees overhead. They created a vast network like a spider web that was winding tighter and tighter around her.
“What are you talking about?” Samael said, his voice clear and firm. “We talked about it, but we never picked a date. I was surprised when you weren’t at your apartment this morning to oversee the movers.”
“The movers…but you told me I’d just get in the way.”
“I did? When?”
“This morning. Early this morning.”
“That’s funny. I tried calling—must’ve called twenty times or more, but your phone went straight to message. We decided to settle for lunch, but—like I said, your phone went straight to message every time I called. I thought maybe your battery died or something.”
Claire was stunned. The sense of unreality only got worse as she considered where she was. She was suddenly fearful that none of this was happening…that she was imagining it all, and she had fallen into a trap she might not be able to escape.
“You picked me up at the house at, like, seven thirty.” She still didn’t believe she hadn’t spent the whole day with him. “We drove up to Houlton. You met my mother and father, and I showed you around the house—my bedroom, and then we went out to ‘The Pond. ’”
“The Pond?”
“Yes! The Pond! Where I went swimming and skating when I was a kid. And then, when my back was turned, you were suddenly…gone.”
“Oh, no,” Samael said. The fear in his voice cut through Claire like a surgical blade.
“What?…What is it?”
The tremor in her voice all but strangled her as fear bubbled up inside her.
“It’s started,” Samael said simply.
Claire wasn’t sure if she had heard him correctly.
“What has?…What’s started?”
She staggered to the side and grabbed on to a tree trunk for support.
“They’re coming,” Samael said, his voice deep and hollow.
Claire didn’t want to believe that she heard fear in his voice. She might be losing her mind, but Samael was always confident and in control of any situation.
“What do you mean? Who’s coming?”
“Listen to me, Claire. Listen very carefully.”
He paused, and the phone suddenly went so silent Claire was afraid her battery had died or the call had dropped. She held her breath and waited for him to speak again. In the short silence, she was ready to start screaming, but she managed to control herself and say, “Samael? Are you still there?”
“Yes, yes.”
Her body flooded with relief. Just hearing his voice made her feel much safer. Tears welled up in her eyes when she thought how far away from each other they really were and wondered who she had driven north with.
“All right, then,” Samael said. “This is what you have to do. There’s a bus station in downtown Houlton, right?”
“Yeah…Greyhound or maybe Trailways. I used to take—”
“Get to town as fast as you can and take the bus back here.”
“Should I—”
“No! Don’t go back to your parents’ house. It will only place them in danger, too. They’re coming after you in order to get to me.”
“Who is? What are you talking about?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you,” Samael said. “What you have to do now is get the Hell out of there as fast as you can. Once you’re on the bus…don’t talk to anyone, got it? Not even the driver.”
“Samael, I’m scared.”
“Don’t be. It’ll all be all right.”
She found a measure of reassurance in his voice.
“Yes…but I don’t see why—”
“Just do what I say.” Samael’s voice was strong and encouraging, and that gave Claire another boost of confidence. “Just stay calm. They won’t hurt you. They’re just messing with you because they want to get to me.”
“Who…who’s doing this?” Claire shouted into the phone.
Her voice echoed from the darkening woods, and her panic rose even higher when she saw how fast night was falling. It was at least three or four miles to the bus station downtown. No matter how fast she got there, she had no idea when the next bus would leave, heading south.
What if there are no more busses going out today?
Where will I go?
> What will I do?
And worst of all was the thought that when she got there, what if this…this thing masquerading as Samael had guessed that’s what she would do, and he was waiting for her there.
What will I do then?
“Save your phone battery,” Samael said, “but call me as soon as you’re on the bus, okay?”
Claire grunted and nodded. It felt like an iron band was steadily tightening around her chest. Her pulse was racing fast, and in spite of the cold evening air, sweat stood out on her forehead beneath her wool hat.
“Okay,” she said breathlessly, “But please. Before I hang up. Tell me. Who’s doing this to me…to us?
“Other demons,” he said simply. “They don’t like what I’m doing.”
“What do you mean?”
“They don’t like that I’ve fallen in love with you…that I want to redeem myself.”
Chapter
11
Closing In
Later that night, several things happened that Claire said could only have been miracles. Two weeks later, when she finally told Samael about them when he was in jail, he said that he agreed they were miracles because there was no other explanation. After all, he more than anyone else—even Claire—believed in the supernatural. The good thing is, these miracles were on the side of the angels.
But they didn’t feel like miracles at the time.
As night descended, Claire struck out through the woods in a different direction, one that would not have taken her back to the house. She was less familiar with it, but she had taken it enough times when she had gone directly from “The Pond” to either Patty’s or Jennifer’s or Amber’s house for a cookout or sleepover.
But never in the dark. Never in March. Even her winter coat, wool hat, gloves, scarf, jeans, and L.L. Bean low-cut boots weren’t enough to keep her comfortably warm.
I could freeze to death out here, she kept thinking, and: I can’t believe this is really happening.
Her feet made loud crunching sounds in the snow, and the thin, icy crust cut into her shins whenever she lost her balance or stumbled in the dark. She didn’t know if the oily feeling running down to her ankles was sweat or blood, and she couldn’t stop now to check.
And she had to keep it together as much as she could because she would never escape this situation alive if she didn’t.
Knowing Samael was only a phone call away gave her a measure of reassurance, but she began to wonder why he couldn’t do something else…something more.
Aren’t demons supposed to be able to fly?
Or, why can’t he conjure up some spell and instantly transport me back to Portland?
Is he able to do such things?
She had to assume if he could, he would have, so whatever the case, she was on her own for now.
Other thoughts plagued her.
Who are they?
Why do they want to get at Samael?
And what will they do to me to get to him?
The sun had long since dropped below the horizon, and the sky was as dark as smoke, pressing down on her. Through the ragged breaks in the clouds and between the leafless branches overhead, a few stars appeared, glinting in the darkness like fireflies seen at a distance.
Claire shivered and drew herself deeper into her coat. She had never felt this lost and lonely in her life, even as a child. Being an adult only made it worse. She constantly had to resist the urge to start running, telling herself that if she hurried, accidents would happen. She wasn’t going to make things worse than they already were.
And they were pretty bad as it was.
She kept wanting to call Samael, if only for the reassurance of hearing his voice, but she didn’t want to run down her phone’s battery. She did pause and call her parents, though. Her mother answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom.”
It took a great effort to control the tremor in her voice. She wasn’t sure how successful she was.
“What’s the matter, dear?” her mother said.
So much for hiding my nervousness.
“Something’s come up, and I—I’m not going to be able to come back to the house before we head back to Portland.”
“Oh, dear. I hope it isn’t anything serious,”
Oh, no. Not at all, Claire thought ruefully, just some demons out to get me.
“Samael came back alone and took off in the car. I was a little hurt he—and you—didn’t come in to say goodbye.”
Claire could hear her father, muttering in the background, words like “totally rude” and “so full of himself.” All too easily, she could imagine what he and her mother were thinking, but she drew up short when she realized anything they thought was not nearly as irrational and—truth to tell—a lot worse that they could ever imagine.
“No…It’s…nothing’s happened. I—uh, I wanted to go for a longer walk than…uh, he did, so he went back to get the car and…umm…picked me up downtown.”
“Uh-huh. I see,” her mother said, making it obvious that she didn’t “see” at all. “If you’d like your father to—”
“I’m fine, Mom. I’m really sorry we couldn’t stay for supper, but we’ll be back soon, I promise.”
She wondered—as she had so often when she was a child—if her mother was fooled by her lies and not letting on, or if she really was truly in the dark. Usually, her father had been the one to trip her up when she lied or did something wrong, but she always wondered how much her mother knew but didn’t say.
“Well, then…It was a terrific surprise to see you. You’ll have to visit again soon and stay longer.”
“Sure thing, Mom.”
“I think your young man seems very nice.”
“He liked you, too, Mom. Both of you. Tell Dad buh-bye for me. I’ll be in touch.”
“Call when you get to Portland.”
I will, Claire thought, that’s if I get back to Portland.
A bone-penetrating chill wrapped around her. All she needed now, she thought, was to hear the fluttery hooting of an owl or the mournful wail of a coyote in the distance to make this the perfect cliché of being lost in the woods.
I’m not lost…I know exactly where I am.
Squaring her shoulders, she pushed on into the darkness.
She had no idea what kind of progress she was making. She felt like she was wandering in a black void, and from time to time, she wondered if she was lost. Houlton wasn’t much of a town, and the surrounding wilderness went on for hundreds of miles in all directions. It would be easy for her to get turned around and head in the wrong direction. She might never find her way out.
Of course, the easy thing—and what she had been told repeatedly to do if she was ever lost in the woods—was to stay put. Don’t move. If she was still lost when dawn came, she could always trace her footprints in the snow back to “The Pond” and home. She’d have a hell of a time explaining to her parents what had happened then, but it sure beat dying alone in the woods.
She kept wishing she had never quit smoking because, if she still smoked, she would have a cigarette lighter in her pocket, and she could start a fire for warmth and as a signal fire to let someone know where she was.
Unless that “someone” was whoever or whatever had pretended to be Samael.
“I’m not gonna make it to downtown if I stop walking,” she said, speaking out loud to bolster her courage. She had to admit the truth. The longer she hiked in the night-soaked forest, the further she went, the worse it would be if she decided to backtrack.
With every step, fear bordering on outright panic wound up inside her. The tiniest sounds were magnified in the dark. The snap of a branch underfoot sounded like a gunshot. The swishing sound her coat made as she walked, swinging her arms, sounded like the hushed tread of someone creeping up behind her. Even the wind, winding through the thin branches overhead, sounded like voices whispering in a language she didn’t quite understand. And when she looked up at the sky, she didn’t rec
ognize the usual patterns of stars. There were new and strange constellations, unrecognizable…as if she had been transported magically to another hemisphere.
“You’re gonna be all right…You’re gonna be all right,” she kept whispering to herself.
She resisted the temptation to call Samael again. Apparently there was nothing he could do from Portland, and he didn’t have the means to get to her quickly.
What’s the use of being a demon if you can’t fly? She thought bitterly.
But she recalled how Samael had told her that different demons had different abilities and powers. So maybe he didn’t or couldn’t fly, and he didn’t know any other demons he could trust who did.
Never in her life had she felt so isolated…so afraid. This was worse than her amazement when she realized for the first time she was sleeping with an actual demon.
Much worse.
As these and other unsettling thoughts ran through her head, she kept walking…trudging through the snow. It was much deeper under the trees, halfway up to her knees. Often she’d stumble and almost fall when she tripped over something—a rock…a fallen tree branch…even her own feet.
She patted herself on the back, though, congratulating herself for even attempting this. When she was growing up in Houlton, she would never ever have dared to hike from “The Pond” to downtown—alone or with friends—at night. She had heard—and told—too many scary stories about things lurking in these woods, waiting to pounce when you least expected.
Only now, she knew all too well that there were things in the forest to fear. There was a good chance the demon who had masqueraded as Samael might be chasing after her in the darkness…coming for her.
Does he know I’m heading to the bus station?
Will he be waiting for me there?
Or will he grab me and whisk me away before anyone else sees or can intervene?
She took little consolation in what Samael had said—that a demon can’t destroy her unless she’d already signed her soul away.
“But they sure as Hell can make your life miserable,” she said out loud.
