Weeping Moon

by Sara Clancy

  He looked up at her again, a forced smile curling his lips. “Don’t get killed because of me.”

  “Benton—”

  “No, you’re stubborn and stupid about these kinds of things. When it comes down to it, you need to save yourself.”

  “Stop with this–”

  His eyes sharpened. “I will as soon as you promise.”

  She stammered.

  “Promise me, Nicole!”

  “I promise.”

  She regretted the words the instant they left her. It wasn’t often that she lied to him, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. But the fib calmed him. With a somewhat contented sigh, he burrowed closer to her and closed his eyes. I’ll correct him later, she decided, rather proud of herself for getting him to relax a little more.

  His breathing evened out and he steadily became heavier against her thighs. Suddenly, the walls of the teepee vibrated violently as hundreds of silent birds took flight. She looked up to the gap in the roof, watching as they crossed over the diming sky in a swarm. A sense of accomplishment rushed through her, strong enough to chase off her looming sense of dread.

  The elders will still be suspicious. Right now, with Benton finally taking to her again, it would take a lot more than that to dampen her mood. We’ll deal with it in the morning.

  She reached over him to collect her own bowl of stew and took a large victory spoonful. Benton was alright. At least for now.

  We’ll figure the rest out tomorrow.

  Chapter 7

  A solid whack across his face ripped Benton violently from sleep.

  His heartbeat throbbed within his nose, making his eyes water as he struggled to understand where he was, what was going on, and who the hell was attacking him.

  “Benton?”

  Nicole’s sleepy voice broke through his haze of panic. Reality snapped back into place, and he released an annoyed grumble. Grabbing her arm, which was currently still draped over his face, he gave her a shove. Hard enough to roll her over.

  “What? What? What?” she asked in rapid succession.

  Still blurry-eyed, she reared her upper body off the ground and looked down at him. This time, she got all the way through her intended sentence.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You hit me in the face,” he groaned.

  “Huh?”

  Rolling his eyes, he reached up and pulled one side of her noise-canceling headphones away from her ear.

  “You hit me.”

  “Oh, sorry,” she winced. “Does it hurt?”

  He grumbled and rolled onto his side.

  “Sorry,” she said again, pressing against his spine and sweetly whispering in his ear, “don’t be mad.”

  In her haste, her ice-cold feet ended up pressed against his claves. He jerked at the sudden onslaught.

  “Get off,” he said with a halfhearted shove. “You’re freezing.”

  “Are you still mad at me?” she challenged, hugging him tightly.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I’m remorseful!”

  As much as he wanted to maintain his anger, he ended up chuckling. “Just go back to sleep, Nic.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I will forgive you right now if you stop talking and go back to sleep,” he muttered, elbowing her in the ribs to both prove his point and make sure she didn’t take too much offense. It was all about balance. “Limited time offer.”

  “Deal,” she chirped.

  Instantly, he was released from her icy grip. What followed was a lot of shuffling and a few stray bumps and nudges. He opened his mouth to demand that she return to her side of the ‘fire.’ The words didn’t come out. His soul still felt raw and, while he wasn’t excited about any actual interaction, he wasn’t ready to be on his own.

  After what felt like hours, Nicole finally settled, curling against his spine like a cat, but mercifully keeping her feet tucked away. A small smile curled one corner of his lips as he closed his eyes and tried to return to the sweet oblivion of sleep. There was a slim possibility that he might be able to get a few more hours before the nightmares dragged him under.

  Just as he started to drift, he caught the first cries of a newborn baby. He groped blindly for a pillow to shove over his head. Nicole, on the other hand, bolted upright and started nudging his shoulder.

  “Benton? Are you awake? Benton?”

  He smacked at her hand and released an indignant groan.

  “Do you hear that?”

  Keeping his eyes firmly closed, he grunted.

  “Benton,” she whispered. “Hey, wake up.”

  “I’m awake.”

  “So?” she asked, puzzlement clear in her voice. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

  “The grunt was my answer. It’s a baby. They’re around.”

  “You don’t feel anything strange about it?” she pressed.

  “They’re tiny irrational creatures that are always sticky,” he mumbled. “Of course they’re strange.”

  “Okay, I’m totally going to round back to your perception of children later. However, for now, can you wake up and focus, please?”

  When he didn’t get up, she shook him again.

  “Benton,” she whined.

  “Oh my God, what?”

  He jerked upright. His sudden motion ended with their shoulders colliding and both of them almost toppling over. It didn’t make her miss a beat.

  “Well? Concentrate.”

  He huffed. “It’s a baby.”

  The moonlight was enough to see the annoyance scrunching up her face. Does she have to do this the one night I’m actually getting a decent night’s sleep? Changing tactics, she gave him her sweetest smile. The one she always used when she wanted something.

  “Please, Benton? Just try. I’ve got pretty good instincts for this sort of thing. And after last night–”

  “What happened last night?” he cut in.

  She stammered for a moment. “I’m not sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Of course, I will. The second you do what I’m asking.”

  All the while, that smile remained locked on her face. Sensing defeat, he huffed a sigh and closed his eyes, making sure she knew just how annoyed he was.

  He still wasn’t sure what the hell it meant to open himself up to the cosmos or whatever it was he was supposed to do. For the most part, he tried to imitate the psychics he’d seen on T.V., just so it looked like he was doing something. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus on the sound alone. It was a shock when he actually felt the shift. Something inside him seemed to slide. A fluid motion that made him physically jolt.

  “You sensed something, didn’t you?” Nicole said swiftly. “The sound’s wrong.”

  Benton couldn’t pinpoint what it was about the constant whine that struck him as wrong, but he was certain that it existed.

  “So,” Nicole said softly. “I was right.”

  His eyes snapped open. “Really? Had to mention that one now?”

  She shrugged innocently just as the wail began to move. They both turned around, shifting to track the noise as it circled their teepee. Soft but shrill, the longer he heard it, the deeper the sound cut into him. It approached the flaps of the teepee. They both threw themselves back, scrambling away without taking their eyes off the entrance. A passing breeze rippled the fabric, allowing the cry to enter. It curled against his skin like a frothing wave. A firm push that forced him back onto his elbow. Nicole whipped around to check on him but was unable to keep her eyes off of the tent for long.

  As suddenly as it had started, it ended, leaving them to the steady chirp of the crickets. Nicole’s hand gripped his shoulder tight.

  “Come on,” she whispered.

  “Sorry?” he hissed back.

  “We can’t let it get away.”

  Benton tore his arm from her fingers. “Are you insane?”
>
  “Just because it’s something weird doesn’t mean that it’s evil.”

  “Besides me, name one supernatural creature we’ve met that hasn’t tried to kill you.”

  “Just to be clear, I can’t use you as an example?”

  “Yeah. That’s what the ‘besides me’ part meant.”

  Her silence spoke volumes. “I’m still going.”

  Benton watched her slip outside into the cold.

  “Damn it,” he muttered and hurried to follow her.

  In his desperation to catch up, he completely forgot what he was wearing. The night air cut straight through his thin, and still damp, shirt. He wrapped his lithe arms around his stomach and hunched his shoulders. It didn’t do much good. Shivering, he scanned his moonlit surroundings. A low murmur of life rolled to him from the main campsite. A nearby crunch of leaves made him turn. The crunch of dried grass made him twist around. Static electricity raced through his bones, a burst of energy that left him on edge and trembling.

  “Nicole?” he asked the shadows that clung to the looming trees surrounding him. “Nic?”

  “Over here.”

  Yeah, Benton. Just follow a disembodied voice into the dark forest, he thought bitterly. A rush of movement made him lurch back. Nicole emerged from the shadows with a frustrated sigh, grabbed his hand, and tugged him along behind her.

  “Hurry up, you’ll miss it.”

  “That’s the idea,” he snapped back.

  Still, he didn’t try to escape her grasp as they crashed their way into the forest. His longer legs made avoiding the smaller shrubbery a little easier, and he lobbed his way through, going wherever she dragged him. She weaved them around the trunks and somehow found a slender path. They had to run single file to fit. Her fingers tightened to a crushing grip as they ran deeper, a clear sign that she wasn’t as carefree about the situation as she was trying to appear. The static feeling continued to grow, increasing until he was sure that she would feel the surge.

  They burst past a low hanging tree limb and exploded out into a small meadow. It was barely bigger than a dining table, leaving their shoulders to bump together as they turned to search their surroundings. An opening in the canopy flooded the area with moonlight. It was a brilliant, almost blinding silver that danced upon the specks of dust that floated in the air. The ethereal beauty left Benton sure that it had to be some kind of illusion.

  “Tell me you see this too,” he whispered, his muscles twitching as the charge coursed through him.

  “I do.”

  “Is this normal?”

  She shook her head slowly, her mouth slightly open in astonishment. Another internal shift slammed into him, shaking him like an earthquake, leaving his muscles trembling with the aftershocks. Nicole managed to catch him just before he hit the forest floor. Taking his weight was a well-practiced maneuver by now. He draped an arm over her shoulder, let her grip him around his waist, and tried to lock his knees. It tended to keep him something close to upright. His legs trembled as if the world were shaking beneath him. Feet skittering, he struggled to regain his footing.

  “Are you okay?” Nicole asked, still keeping her voice a low whisper, as if afraid that they might be overheard.

  Slowly, the wave of dizziness receded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Do you see anything?”

  Trying to calm his rampaging heartbeat, he tried to stretch his senses. Again, it was a task he wasn’t sure how to complete. All he could do was relax as best he could and try to pay attention. The wind coursed through the leaves. Crickets continued to chirp and stray rodents scurried through the undergrowth. It was all normal. Nothing that would explain the sensation coursing through him.

  Still, he felt it. A presence that stood within nature but remained removed.

  He craned his neck. Winter wind stirred his hair, brushing it across his eyes. The moon hung low and swollen, blazing with a startling light as it filled the opening in the canopy. A strange sense of peace mixed with the bone-deep dread. A shadow drifted over the moon. He squinted into it, trying to discern some shape from the mist. The baby’s cry returned, ringing in his ears as little more than a whisper. Fear cracked open his chest.

  “Benton? Benton? Benton?”

  “Sorry?” he gasped as he whipped around to face her.

  Tearing his eyes off of the moon came with a physical ache.

  “Benton, are you okay?”

  “I’m slightly annoyed.” The remark came out as a natural reflex. He started to pay more attention when he saw her face distort into concern. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve been trying to get your attention for half an hour.”

  “Say that again?”

  The squeeze of her fingers made him jump. When did she take my hand again? He stared down at the entwined hands, trying to unravel the mystery.

  “Benton?”

  Her voice was a sharp whisper that made him twist around. Confusion rolled over him in waves. She had been standing right next to him a split second ago, her hand gripping his tightly. Now she was before him, holding him by his shoulders as she shook him slightly.

  “What?” It was all he could think to say.

  Instead of answering straight away, she twisted around to stare up at the low hanging moon. Looking back to him, she whispered.

  “What do you see?”

  “Nothing.”

  The difficulty he had moving his tongue terrified him. He felt heavy all over. Like his muscles had turned to rock against his bones.

  “You’re going to leave, okay?” Nicole said.

  Warm hands gripped the sides of his face and jerked his head around. Without his knowledge, he had started to stare at the moon again.

  “Get me out of here,” he whispered.

  Nicole didn’t hesitate. Never releasing her tight grip on him, she led them directly back to the campsite, never so much as glancing behind. Not even as the child’s cry once more rose in pitch. Benton struggled to keep the pace.

  In the end, he was the one who broke and sprinted the remaining distance back to the safety of the teepee.

  Chapter 8

  Benton stretched out a hand that wasn’t his own. Skin fit over him like a glove, tight enough that it felt ready to split open if he moved too fast. As the dream continued, he settled into the flesh, melting with his host until the other man’s mind overpowered his own. What remained of Benton’s mind was merely a whisper, steadily growing softer until it vanished altogether.

  Tender skin graced the palm of his outstretched hand. Instantly, he closed his fingers tight, trapping the small hand inside his grasp, remembering a moment later to take it slow. There were still too many people around for him to be sure that he had his prey.

  “Thank you for your help,” Benton said in his borrowed voice.

  The little boy smiled up at him, his baby fat puffing up his cheeks all the more.

  “Why couldn’t you get the bag yourself?”

  Sensing that the boy might run, Benton tightened his grip. Only releasing slightly when the boy hissed a pained breath.

  “I’m too big. I can’t get under the car far enough to reach it.” Playfully, he wiggled the boy’s arm, making him giggle. “You look about the right size.”

  “Hey, I’m big, too. I’m almost seven.”

  “Yes, but you’re also like Spiderman. I’m sure you can scurry straight under.”

  Whatever hesitance the boy had vanished after the comparison to his hero. Side-by-side, they walked through the weakening night. Dawn wasn’t far off now. He still couldn’t believe his luck.

  The dark-haired boy had caught his eye the moment he had arrived. Small for his age. Wide eyes. Slender, hairless limbs with just a hint of baby fat. Perfect. He had known from the start that he wasn’t going to leave without the boy. But he had thought it would take more effort. Perhaps wait until he was playing with his friends and separated from his parents. To catch him coming back from a bathroom break unattended had almost see
med like a trap. He couldn’t truly be so lucky.

  They trudged down the small hill, and grass gave way to gravel as they entered the parking lot. Still, the boy made no attempt to leave. And no one moved to stop them. As they weaved their way through the first row of cars, it struck Benton that they could be gone before anyone even noticed that the boy was missing.

  “Which one’s your car?”

  “Over here. This way.”

  Heart slamming within his ribcage and body trembling with anticipation, he couldn’t stop himself from quickening his step. The boy kept his silence until he was forced into a jog.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Benton was too close now. His car was in sight, nestled in the back row against the beginnings of the tiny forest. Not a soul was there to stop him. This was going to happen. The boy was now his.

  “Hey, Mister!”

  Without responding, Benton scooped the boy up. His tiny frame made it easy. Chubby cheeks squished easily under his fingers as he clamped a hand over the boy’s mouth, stifling his screams. He dug into his pocket for the keys to his car. Only a few more yards and it would be done.

  The small box slipped between his fingers as he fumbled for the trunk release. The sudden flash of lights made his heart skip a beat. But no one came. The only noise around them was the crunch of the gravel and the muted sobs of the struggling boy. Far too low to draw anyone’s attention. The truck swung open automatically, opening like the mouth of a cave of wonders, promising him his heart’s desire if he could only reach it in time. Benton pushed himself faster, fighting to keep a grip on the now thrashing boy.

  He threw the child in with a crushing force. It was never too soon to teach the boy who was in charge. The car bounced with the impact, the squeak of the suspension drowning out the boy’s whimper. All it took was just one hand pressed against his sternum to keep the boy pinned. A rapid heartbeat fluttered against Benton’s fingertips. The sign of fear fueling his own delight.

  Reaching past the still struggling child, he grabbed the metallic tape he had put aside in anticipation for this moment. Long held fantasies flashed across his mind as he wrapped the thrashing limbs together. Not one of them held a candle to this moment. This reality. The boy was his now. A tool for him to act out everything he had been craving for so long. A rush of euphoric relief left him gasping for air.