Blood and Other Matter

by Kaitlin Bevis

  “Don’t you take the Good Lord’s name in vain.” The disapproval in her voice was monumental. “And there is nothing disgusting about a mother feeding her child. Why, when you were a babe—”

  “Augh.” Harrison covered his ears before she could finish her sentence. He did not want to hear any stories involving him anywhere near his mother’s breasts.

  Fabric rustled, and the chair squeaked. “It’s safe now. You wouldn’t have seen nothin’ anyway.”

  Better safe than sorry. He turned back and confirmed she was snug beneath a quilt. “I didn’t know you were up.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” Mama inclined her head toward the baby. “A girl’s gotta eat, and your father needs his rest before his shift starts.”

  Harrison nodded in understanding and turned his attention back to gathering breakfast. Ellie slept in a bassinet in his parents’ room because their house was what his mother referred to as “cozy.” Its open floor plan boasted no hallways and only three doors—the one leading to his room, the one leading to his parents’ room, and the one leading to the bathroom. The tiny house felt cramped when it was just the three of them, but when Ellie surprised them by joining the family, the place grew claustrophobic. Pops was putting in a lot of overtime so they could move to a bigger house before she grew too much.

  “Oh, have you seen that card the D’Ovidio girl brought by with the sheriff’s son last week?” Mama asked.

  I burned it, Harrison thought, but aloud he replied, “No, Mama.”

  “It was real nice. I still can’t believe you were rude enough to leave them sitting outside.” She shook her head. “I understand not wanting the reminder, but Harrison, she’s not to blame for living when . . . “ She trailed off, seeming to become aware of the tension radiating from her son’s shoulders. “Well, never mind that. You’re not going into those woods today. You were lucky to come out alive last time.”

  “Mama—”

  His father opened the bedroom door and stepped into the living room, squinting against the light. “Good morning,” he said, yawning and tightening his robe.

  “Aw, Andy, you were supposed to get some sleep.”

  Harrison couldn’t help but smile at the way his mother’s voice softened when she spoke to his father. “Morning, Pops.”

  His father did a double take when he noticed Harrison’s clothes. “Going for a hunt?”

  His mother sniffed. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  “Aw, leave off, Leigh-Ellen. The boy’s been cooped up for days. You want him back on those gottdanged pills? He’s got to get his energies out.”

  “Well then, he can help me clean the house, play with Ellie, or, or—”

  Chores? “Am I in trouble, Mama?”

  “Course not.”

  “We’re miles away from—” He couldn’t think of what to call the place he’d lost all his friends. “Aunt Jenny’s place,” he said finally. All the stories said that forest was haunted. Now, for him at least, it really was. “You don’t have to worry.”

  “Bah! Bah!” Ellie exclaimed.

  “Well, good morning there, Princess.” His father’s voice went soft and squishy as he reached for the baby. “Did you have a good breakfast?”

  “Mmmmmmm-bop!”

  “Ba du bop,” his parents sang. “Whoa. Yeah, yeah.”

  Good God. Harrison eyed the door and considered bolting for it.

  Ellie squealed in delight, and his father laughed before turning his attention back to his wife. “He’ll have his gun with him. Lord knows if he’d had it that night, things might have turned out differently.”

  “Yes, I’m sure the drunk teenagers would have stood a much better chance if only they’d been armed.”

  Harrison seized the distraction Pops provided and slipped out of the house, as round one of the gun control debate began anew. Pops wasn’t right about much when he went up against Mama, but he did know one thing for sure about his son—Harrison didn’t have it in him to sit still. Without practice or school to channel his energy into, he’d been goin’ insane.

  The air felt as crisp as the frost coating the brown leaves on the forest floor. He set off at a brisk pace until his muscles burned, and the cold air scorched his throat. Harrison relished the sensation of the cold, the blood pumping through his veins, the breath tugging at his throat. He felt alive.

  Spotting deer tracks, Harrison slowed to a silent stalk. He’d figured his rushing had likely scared off every critter in the tri-state area, so he was shocked when he spotted a doe not five minutes later. Harrison pulled up his Winchester rifle, then stopped as the tall, graceful creature passed in front of a tree at the edge of his range. He held his breath, squinting through the scope against the ill-angled light to fix his aim on the deer’s upper shoulder.

  The doe jerked her head to the left then froze, wide-eyed in fear. Harrison frowned, glancing through the scope. The wind had shifted out of his favor. His finger itched against the trigger, and he held his breath. If he didn’t get a good shot right now—

  Pops would ground him for a year if he killed a doe outside of season. Harrison lowered the gun with a muttered curse. With a twitch of her ears, the doe bolted into the trees.

  Besides, as much as he loved the hunt, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach the bright red blossoming of blood against flesh, much less skinning the thing and getting it home. Not since that horrible night.

  He shuddered, the memories making his hands shake. Yeah . . . maybe hunting was a bad idea. There were other ways to “get his energies out.” Maybe he’d give that freshman who’d made eyes at him in chemistry before all this happened a call. She was a bit young for a senior like himself, but he’d heard she was easy. “You only live once.”

  Just once? A soft laugh carried on the breeze, circling around him like a physical presence. Harrison jerked his head up, looking left then right, searching for the source. He’d heard that laugh before.

  The memory sent images of blood-coated faces contorting in pain through Harrison’s mind, and he clutched his rifle tighter.

  Harrison scanned the forest. The air went unnaturally still. Not a bird sang, no leaves rustled. Nothing. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of smoke. Were there more shadows than before?

  A branch snapped. He flinched at the sound, swallowing hard as his gaze drew back to the shadows beneath the trees. Shouldn’t they stretch away from the sun instead of toward it?

  Toward him.

  The shadows shifted. Harrison’s hand trembled on his gun as darkness overtook the woods, the writhing shadows morphing the trees into skeletal faces with black eyes glaring at him with accusation.

  “This is stupid,” he muttered, but when another branch broke, he whirled to the sound, gun raised.

  A soft exhalation blew toward him in the wind, wrapping around him, carrying the shadows with it. When the darkness touched his camo-clad form, he felt something concrete and tangible. Harrison let out a strangled yelp and stumbled backwards, away from the cold, dark fingers.

  There. Something beyond the stand of pines, moving from left to right. He fired. At the crack of his rifle, the figure bolted from the trees, dashing toward him with an unnatural speed. Harrison turned and ran.

  Branches cracked underfoot as he scrambled through the woods, heart pounding in his throat. He burst through the underbrush into a clearing, brimming with morning light.

  Gasping for breath, Harrison spun, scanning the area. Nothing. He let out a shaking breath, suddenly feeling very foolish. Running from shadows and tricks of the light. What was wrong with him?

  “Poor little hunter.” The creature’s lips brushed against his cheek as its voice invaded his ears and his mind. He screamed in agony. “Reduced to prey.”

  Shadows came alive, spilling across the ground. They c
rawled up his legs, wrapping him in cold tendrils, stopping at the meat of his thigh. “Please,” he whimpered.

  The creature brushed against his shoulder as it moved in front of him, its head tilted in a reptilian manner. A disturbingly human grin stretched across its taut face. Everything else about the creature seemed wrong—alien, stretched too thin, even the way it held itself, neck and limbs jutting at odd angles as though confined there.

  “Please!” He gasped as his hand moved of its own accord, fingers brushing against the trigger of his rifle. His thoughts flashed to his mother’s grin, his father’s wink, and Ellie’s pathetically adorable attempts to say brother. They weren’t far. If he screamed loud enough, maybe they would save him.

  “You have so much,” the creature murmured. “How do you feel to have traded it for so little?”

  “Please! I didn’t mean to!” Even as he protested, Harrison’s hand dropped the gun and reached for his sheathed hunting knife. “I didn’t even want to! It wasn’t my idea! You can’t do this. Please!”

  He screamed as his hand pressed the tip of the knife against his thigh. Pulled back. Thrust. The pain. God, the pain was a blinding white light of agony, but he was alive. He was alive! He’d glanced up at the creature, hazy with pain but hopeful for an explanation.

  I deserve this. Its voice echoed through his mind.

  For a second, he believed it. He was a horrible person. He’d done horrible things. He deserved this.

  “No.” He choked on the word, and the creature’s grin widened so much, Harrison thought its lips would split open. No one deserved this, no one—

  I. Deserve. This.

  He looked at the creature. Really looked at it, seeing past the clawed hands, the too-big grin, the predatory, glittering eyes, the strange way it stood, like if it moved too fast, it would rip through its stretched skin. He saw past the wrongness of the dark hair laying lank over its manic eyes and remembered what it had been. What it still could be, if they hadn’t forced that creature into this too-small form.

  “No one deserves this,” he whispered. But they’d done it anyway.

  I deserve this! The voice insisted, and a wave of pain crashed through him, so intense he saw stars.

  “I deserve this,” he parroted. His mind flashed back to his family, so close. His throat ached as he realized he’d never see them again. The shadows crept up his thigh to probe at the knife still jutting out of his leg.

  They’re better off without me.

  “They’re better off without me.” Ellie would get her own room. Pops wouldn’t have to work all that overtime. Mama would never find out what he’d done.

  He met the creature’s eyes and gave a nod. He had this coming.

  The shadows grew teeth and ripped through the wound, into his body. Harrison’s screams filled the clearing with a renewed frenzy as the cold teeth grew within him. The creature watched, head tilted, that inhuman grin stretched across its face so tight, its lips cracked. When Harrison’s screaming stopped, the creature touched the edge of a shadow, pulling the darkness closer to it. The shadows weren’t black anymore, but tinged red with blood.

  The creature touched the shadow to its lips and everything within Harrison went cold. Then all the shadows ripped free from his body at once, pushing the knife out of his leg in a final flash of agony as he hit the ground with a dull thud.

  Chapter 29: Tess

  Wednesday, September 28th

  JUST ONCE? LAUGHER echoed through the woods.

  “Do you hear that?” Josh grabbed my arm. “Is that water?”

  Wake up. Wake up, now! Before it’s too late.

  “Oh, yeah. Kinlock Falls is . . .” I pointed, my circled gesture taking in most of the surrounding forest. “Thatawayish . . . I think.” Which meant I’d been taking us in the wrong direction all along. Probably.

  “Want the rest of this?” He exchanged my empty cup with his full one without waiting for a response. “Kinlock Falls . . . where have I—Oh yeah! We went swimming there once in Cub Scouts!” He pulled me through the woods, following the sound of the falls.

  Moonlight glittered off the water, turning the ripples into molten silver. “Come on.” Josh stripped off his shirt. “It’ll be fun.”

  Anything really dangerous would be sleeping right now, right? I stripped down to my bra and underwear and splashed into the water.

  “Whoa! That’s cold, that’s cold!” Josh exclaimed with a whoop. “Where’d you go?” His arms wrapped around me, steadying me and plucking the empty cup from my hand. “There you are.”

  “It’s so cold,” I whimpered, shivering.

  “Let me warm you up.” Josh tilted my chin up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. He leaned his face toward mine, and I swallowed hard. Did I want this?

  His lips touched mine, and I let him kiss me. Like really let him and kissed him back even. Something about this wasn’t right, but I felt too good to care. His hands wandered, and damn if mine didn’t return the favor.

  His fingers worked deftly at my bra, and before I could process what was happening, the scrap of fabric floated away from me.

  I reached for it. “Wait, let me—”

  My knees gave way. Josh hoisted me up and moved further into the water. The motion sent my head spinning. “Josh?” I tried to disentangle myself but froze when I met his eyes.

  Wide, dark, and glittering with malice, they drank me in. With a strangled yelp, I stumbled backward away from the cold, dark figure. The crack of a rifle reverberated through the trees, and the shadows sprang, pinning me beneath them. “Wait.” Shadows stretched over me, teeth gleaming.

  I blinked and realized I was pressed between Josh and a large, flat rock. His thumbs hooked beneath the elastic of my underwear. “No, wait.”

  He didn’t. “Come on Tess. Don’t be a tease.” His hands moved down my thighs, taking the fabric with them.

  Please! I didn’t mean to! I didn’t even want to! It wasn’t my idea! You can’t do this. Please!

  “No. Stop.” I pushed at Josh’s shoulders with trembling hands.

  “You’ve done this before, right?” Josh’s breath felt hot in my ear as he moved his body against mine. He wrapped my hands where he wanted them and moved them for me when I didn’t cooperate.

  I deserve this, a familiar voice whispered.

  “I mean surely—” His fingers probed inside of me to clear his way. “—you and Derrick—”

  Derrick. The name burst through the haze of my fogged brain and filled me with longing so intense, tears pricked my eyes. I wanted to be home, with Derrick, watching the stupid eclipse. Not here, feeling weird and wrong and scared.

  “No!” I tried to squirm free of him, the rock scraping at my exposed skin. My stomach lurched with every grope, probe, and squeeze from his hands. “No, I’ve never . . . done this before, and I don’t want to now. Please stop.” Only what came out of my mouth sounded garbled and clunky.

  “Yeah, okay.” To my utter relief, Josh’s body pushed off mine. “No problem. We don’t have to do that.”

  For a second, I sat frozen. Then I bolted up. Dizziness sent me crashing into the water, scraping my knees against the rocks beneath the surface.

  “Careful.” He gripped my elbow and hauled me up. My stomach twisted at his touch.

  He smiled at me, oblivious. “Do you want to keep making out?”

  “No.” My chest constricted as I realized there was something really wrong with me. I thrashed toward the shore, doing my best to ignore his hand guiding me. Trembling, I climbed onto the muddy bank. My eyes fell on my empty cup. “Did you drug me?”

  “What?” He stepped out of the water, sounding so offended that I flinched. “Why would you think that?”

  I couldn’t stand up. Kneeling, I groped blindly for my clothes. “Something
’s wrong.”

  “I’ll say.” Josh grabbed his pants off the ground with a huff. “God, you do have a low opinion of me, don’t you? What kind of a person do you think I am? I stopped when you said stop, didn’t I?”

  “I’m sorry.” I burst into tears, curling my knees to my chest, trying to ignore the leaves and twigs and cold poking against my bare skin. He had stopped. And he’d bought me dinner and driven me all the way out here, and here I was, being a complete bitch. “I didn’t mean to—to insult you.”

  “Hey, hey,” Josh’s voice turned soothing, and he pulled me to him, stroking my hair. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. Look, we’re . . . we’re just drunk, I think. I feel weird, too. Maybe it was a bad keg. Don’t cry.”

  “Why can’t I just be nice to people?” My shoulders shook with sobs. “I’m so mean.”

  “Please don’t do this . . .”

  Harrison? He sounded so scared. With great effort, I turned my head, looking into the shadows, trying to force my eyes to adjust. The clearing brightened. Harrison’s bruised form sagged over his knees. He met my eyes, pain written in his features. “Please,” he whispered.

  “Harrison?” I moved toward him, drawing in a horrified breath when shadows wriggled over his skin. Oh, God, he looked so scared. I crawled forward, hand outstretched.

  Fear flickered in his eyes. “Please.”

  Blood soaked into my dress as I inched toward him. He was going to bleed to death.

  “Hang on.” My fingers brushed against his, and he burst apart into shadows. “Harrison!”

  Chapter 30: Derrick

  Wednesday, September 28th

  A SCREAM PIERCED the air. I leapt up from the couch, heart in my throat. Tess. Her screaming grew more frantic as I raced through the hall and threw open her door. She lay thrashing on the bed in a tangle of sheets. A shaft of pale sunlight filtered in from the windows, glistening on her sweat-soaked skin.

  It was only a nightmare. I let out a relieved breath and approached the bed, dodging her flailing limbs to shake her awake. “Tess! Hey, Tess! Wake up! Tess!”