by Sara Clancy
“I know you think I’m an idiot, but I can tell the difference between startled and scared.”
Benton pulled his arm free and raced back to the safety of the bus. He didn’t turn back even as Zack yelled after him.
Chapter 3
Cradling the plush toy in her hands, Nicole lifted it until the beak of the loon bird hovered about an inch beside Benton’s face. She waited for him to stop shivering to notice that she was watching him, and he turned his head slightly. He jolted the second he saw the toy so close to his face and muttered a curse.
“Loon,” she cooed, until the word was longer than it should have been.
He shook his head.
She pushed up the toy’s wing. “Wing five.”
That was the tipping mark and he sputtered a laugh. Finally, a smile crossed his face, replacing the pinched expression that he had worn ever since he had bolted from the store.
“You’re an idiot,” he muttered.
While they weren’t the most flattering words, they were the first ones he had spoken in a bit over two hours, so she took it as a victory. Bringing the toy back down into his lap, she shrugged.
“I’m just playing to my audience.”
He cast her a sharp look before rolling his eyes. Benton couldn’t exactly be called tanned, but his skin always had a healthy, pinkish hue that prevented him from being pale. Now he looked like ice. His lips were rimmed blue, and the dark shadows under his eyes were like deep bruises that went down to his bone. There hadn't been many edibles in the shop, so she had bought coffee, and a basket of fries, of which she ended up eating half. She also bought some cheap red mittens that she doubted were doing much good. About an hour ago, people had started to take notice and offered him their jackets to use as blankets. He had several piled onto him, but he was still visibly shaking, looking like he had just come out of a snowstorm.
“Why did you get that?” he asked, eyeing the toy bird with suspicion.
A smile crossed her face. “Tradition. Every time I had to make this trip, my dad would buy me a toy. I’m going to take a picture of myself with it and send it to him when we get cell reception again.”
“There’s no reception out here?” he asked, his teeth chattering around each word.
Meg twisted around and rested her chin on the back of the seat. “We’re going to get it right after we get on that bus route. You look horrible.”
Benton arched an eyebrow. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Seriously, it’s not even that cold. How are you going to survive the winter?”
“Indoors,” he snapped and snuggled deeper under the jackets.
Danny turned around to join the conversation. For a moment, the twins vied for space on the small bench seats, then Danny smiled and gave Nicole a little knowing smile.
“Speaking of traditions,” she said, obviously trying to recapture Benton’s attention before he fell back into silence, “are we raiding the vending machine again?”
Zack was instantly in on the conversation. He hopped across the slim aisle, pushing and squishing the twins until they made enough room for him to sit.
“Candy and ghost stories. A tradition worth keeping,” he grinned.
“Great,” Danny chirped. “This is going to be fun! We might actually have new stories.”
“How?” Meg barked a laugh.
“Because we have a new addition to the group,” Danny said, as she gestured to Benton.
He peeked over the edge of the jackets before scrunching up closer to the window.
“Oh, he seems like he’ll be a pile of fun,” Meg muttered.
Danny smacked her arm.
“I’m sure he knows something scary,” Zack said, easily reaching over the back of the chair and swatting Benton’s leg. “Come on, Benny-boy. Tell me something scary.”
Nicole pushed his arm away before he could whack Benton again. No one actually expected him to answer. He was still hidden, pressed to the side of the bus, his voice a vacant mutter.
“Allison Conway.”
Nicole’s chest squeezed with a painful clench as she flicked her eyes across the others. They all shared the same look. She didn’t know what to say until Benton continued, “Someone said her name in the store. They said it weird. Anyone ever heard of her?”
Nicole was quick to answer. “She’s one of the missing girls I was telling you about.”
The moment the words left her mouth, she realized the importance of the question. He had seen her. And there had been something in the encounter that had truly terrified him.
***
Leaving that stretch of the highway was like stepping out of a freezer. The air within his little fortress of jackets instantly became humid and stale. He gulped down the warm air until he could feel it thawing the ice that had gathered around his bones. Timidly, he sat up straighter, poked his head out of the layers of jackets and glanced out the window. Life flooded the valley below them with massive buildings and a large scattering of homes. Cars sped around them, while dark, heavy clouds rolled in to cover the sky. It released a menacing rumble of thunder as the bus jerked to a stop. It was the first time in months that he had seen a stop light.
Next to Fort Wayward, the small town of Peace Springs looked like a sprawling metropolis, even if a noticeable few buildings were standing vacant.
The lights changed and Dorothy drove the bus around the corner, passing by a brightly lit Tim Horton and entering into the vast parking lot of a hotel. She pulled up in one of the lots in front of the door and instantly stood up. It took her a few attempts to get the attention of the suddenly restless crowd.
“Remember,” she said, each word brimming with authority. “This hotel is under no obligation to give us such a great discount. If they change their minds, we will be stuck using the hotel on the far side of town.”
Benton had no idea what was wrong with that other place, but everyone made it clear with grumbles and groans that it was a horrible option.
“We are not to abuse their hospitality. Act like adults.”
With a chorus of agreement, everyone started to gather their things at a more relaxed pace. People collected their jackets as they passed. Benton thanked them, grateful to get rid of the stifling heat, and smiled when they commented that he was looking a lot better. Nicole practically beamed at him as they waited for everyone else to clear out. He cringed at the looks Zack and the twins shot him as they headed off.
“They’re not going to let this go,” Benton muttered as they followed.
It was hard to put as much venom into the words as he had wanted to. After the last few hours, he felt near ecstatic just to be able to move his fingers properly. He hopped off the bus with a bit more enthusiasm and took a deep breath of the fresh air. It filled his nostrils, laced with the energy of the approaching storms and the scent of coffee and donuts.
He smiled at her. “Think they’ll believe I have a medical condition?”
“You kind of do,” she teased as they rounded the bus. “Has that ever happened before?”
Benton shook his head.
“Maybe it’s like one of those compensation things,” Nicole said. “Like when someone goes blind and their hearing gets better. You’re not dreaming so you’re becoming more sensitive to other things.”
It was impossible to keep from smirking just a little. “Now, that’s a scientific statement, Rider.”
She spun around to face him, walking backwards and jabbing him in the chest with the loon. “You just don’t like admitting you have feelings. Or that I’m right.”
“I have plenty of feelings. Annoyance is one that comes to mind.” His words trailed off when he noticed something out of the corner of his eyes.
A green sedan was parked on the far side of the lot, the beginnings of rust cutting along the edges of the metal, a slight dent creating a thin crack along one of the taillights. Nicole walked beside him and followed his gaze.
“What is it?”
He shook his he
ad. “I don’t know.”
“Communication, Benton,” she reminded in a sing-song tone.
“The green car,” he said, no longer sure if he should be scowling or smiling. “Something about it.” At a loss for how else to explain it, he just shrugged.
She pressed the loon bird plushy against his chest. “Hold Bartholomew for a second.”
He numbly took hold of it as she rummaged in her backpack. Retrieving her mobile phone, she clicked a photograph. That done, she shoved the phone into the pocket of her skirt and plucked the loon from his grip. “We better catch up.”
He caught up to her. “You can’t name that thing Bartholomew.”
“Too late.”
“That’s my middle name,” he grumbled as she picked up her pace.
“So? You don’t own that name.”
With one last fleeting glance back at the car, Benton picked up his pace and followed her into the hotel lobby.
***
The rooms weren’t quite ready, so Dorothy had decided that they would all head across the street to a pizza parlor for an early dinner. Their group took up a few booths and most of the other tables had been filled with families also looking to get fed and go home before the storm hit. The constant clatter had been oddly comforting and Benton had relaxed into the flow of it. A few slices of pizza, and he actually got through a full conversation with Zack, the only insults being thrown around relatively harmless.
Thunder cracked across the sky, loud enough to almost make the building rumble. The rain fell in heavy sheets and they had stayed a few more hours to see if it would let up, but it only showered harder. Eventually, the rooms were ready and they couldn’t put off heading back any longer. The short walk was enough to soak them all to the bone, and it was only when they were collecting their keys that Benton realized the hotel itself was actually divided into three separate buildings to allow people to pull their cars up to their rooms. It also meant that they would take another walk in the icy rain.
A few were lucky enough to have rooms in the main building and headed up only after they had systematically mocked every person who had to head back outside. Naturally, Nicole was to share a room with her mother in one of the outside buildings. Since Benton’s parents were the other chaperones, they had a room in the building on the opposite side of the parking lot. The thought of leaving Nicole to dart into the rain alone hadn’t sat well with him. A ball of dread had formed within him and grew with every second. She reminded him that she was well protected and promised that they would meet up back at the vending machines in the main building after a warm shower and, hopefully, after the rain had died down.
Ducking into the downpour, Benton had given up on preventing it from seeping into his eyes and instead turned his attention to trying to keep his bag relatively dry. He hadn’t succeeded, and almost everything he had brought was damp by the time he reached the far-ended room. His parents had been caught up making sure that everyone else got to their correct rooms, and he had entered the small room alone.
Water dripped from him in rivets and soaked into the carpet as he dropped his backpack onto the small round table against the wall. Once again frozen to his core, his fingers fumbled over the zipper, the soaked material of his bag not helping the process of opening it. He tipped the contents out, searching for what had been left relatively dry. He found a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that would at least be better than what he was currently wearing.
A flash of lightening rattled around the edges of the drawn curtains, chasing off the dull gray shadows for only a moment before allowing their return. With his items in hand, he padded across the room and into the condensed bathroom. It was only as he turned the shower on that he remembered it would have probably been smarter if he had taken off his shoes before entering the room. He quickly glanced at the carpet and found that he was able to trace each step he had taken by the soggy trail of footsteps looking like ink in the lingering dim light. But there wasn’t any mud, so he figured it wouldn’t be too big of a fallout for his absentmindedness.
More thunder broke as he turned the shower on, loud enough to shake the florescent tube of the bathroom light against its case. He stared at it. The wind was picking up, turning into a raging howl and condensing the storm clouds now occupying the last rays of sunlight. It was going to get dark fast and he had to decide what was worse; the shadows or the memories that sound could dredge up. He remembered the weight of the woman on top of him and instead decided that the flashlight on his mobile would suffice for tonight.
His fingers felt numb and useless as he pulled the device from his waterlogged jeans and set it up on the counter. Lightening severed the shadows, the thunder that followed strong enough to ricochet within his chest. By now, the wind howled across the walls and squeezed into every gap it found, like a gasped scream. He ducked out of the bathroom just long enough to snatch up one of the chairs and wedge it against the bathroom door. Modesty be damned, he wasn’t planning on getting stuck in there.
Steam formed over the top of the shower curtain, the warmth it offered reminding him how cold he was. He pulled the wet clothes from his body, tossed them into a slush pile in one of the corners, and finally stepped under the wondrous spray. His skin flushed and he quickly set to work lathering the hotel shampoo into his hair.
There was a faint noise.
He froze, the suds streaming down his face as he strained to hear anything beyond the noise of the shower and the rampaging storm. Nothing. Maybe the wind just threw something against the window, he reasoned. At the same time, deep in the back of his mind, his brain identified the sound. Someone had opened the room door. With a few quick swipes, he washed his face clean. His stomach flipped as he pulled the curtain back just enough to slip his head through.
Steam streamed out from the gap, curling in the cool air of the room. It played with the light from the phone, transforming it into a haze that dispersed and dulled the light at the same time. Goose bumps broke out across his skin as he leaned a little further out of the warmth of the shower, stretching and craning his neck to get a peek around the corner of the doorway.
A bolt of lightning lit the sky, turning the driving rain into droplets of silver as the wind whipped them across the now empty threshold and into the room. The open door swung slightly from the gusts of wind, as the rain soaked into the carpet.
“M…Mom?” Benton stuttered. He couldn't hear any reply over the shower and quickly turned the taps off with one hand as the other clenched the shower curtain in an attempt to cover himself. “Dad?”
Thunder broke across the silence that filled the darkened room. On shaky legs, he stepped out of the shower, now wishing that he hadn’t propped the bathroom door open. The frozen air, that now assailed the room, only highlighted how exposed he was as it played against his bare skin. He had to lean across the open space to reach the towel rack on the far-ended wall. He stretched as far as he could but he had to take another step out.
His fingertips snatched at the towel as his foot hit something slick and cold. His hip slammed against the tiles and he flopped onto his back, the soft towel scrunching up on his face as it dropped from the rack. Instantly, he jolted upright, using the towel to cover himself as he tried to see what he had fallen in.
It was slick against his palm and he lifted his hand to his eyes, staring at the black gunk but unable to identify it. For an instant, a lightning strike turned the night into day and he could see the entire room in vivid detail. Mud. He was sitting in a thick trail of mud. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the front door, where the trail began. The lurching, splotched, drag mark stained the carpet, working its way across the room. Into the bathroom. The light dulled again but the glow of his phone was enough to see that the trail didn’t end where he sat. It slithered into the tub.
The shower curtain shifted and bunched, the scanty material moving aside as the tips of fingers rose up from under it. His eyes bulged and he scrambled further back against the wall as
the fingers slithered and jerked into sight. They clutched at the rim of the tub, broken nails clawing for perches, clumps of sodden earth dripping from its skin. The second arm flung out over the rim and slapped against the floor just an inch from his foot.
Benton bolted upright, bringing the towel with him less for modesty and more because fear kept his fingers from releasing their death grip on the fabric. He barreled out the door, across the room, into the ferocious storm without a single glance behind. The wind lashed his bare skin, driving the icy rain into him like stones as the torrents of water rushed over his feet.
Two panted breaths were all it took for him to lose every ounce of warmth he had garnished. He whirled around, looking back to his room as he shivered from more than just the cold. A clap of thunder shook the ground under his feet as glacial water streamed over his face, blurring his vision and choking his every gasp for air. His hands were shaking as he worked the drenched piece of cloth around his waist. His hands clutched tight to the fabric, holding it just to have something to hold onto.
A streak of movement caught his eye. He looked up to the ledge just above his door. Black, shadowy masses of owls lined the entire building, the pointed feathers looking demonic in the pouring rain. Like grotesque gargoyles, the birds lined every roof top, their eyes reflecting the lightning bolts like plates of polished silver. They swooped overheard, their massive shadows silhouetted by the sky. There was something familiar about the sight that made his heart stagger. A fear he had never known engulfed him, filling every inch of his skin like a sickening virus.
The sky broke again in anger, and with the glow of the bolt, he saw the woman once more, crawling across the floor, her winding hand reaching for him as she vomited an endless trail of dirt and rot.
He ran faster than the bolts of lightning in the dark sky above.
Chapter 4
Steam lingered, fogging up Nicole’s bathroom mirror as she finished brushing her hair. The storm had rolled in so rapidly that she was sure it would have moved on by the time she had gotten out of the shower. But now, she was showered, dressed, and almost ready to go meet the others, and it seemed like the storm was only getting stronger. The biting wind worked its way under her room door, filling the air and making her shiver.
