Her knees trembled as she recalled Randy’s smile. The dimples in his cheeks and slight squint of his eyes had taken her breath when she’d watched him speak to the others.
She felt pain in her hand. She looked down and saw that sometime during her recollections it had balled into a fist. Opening her hand, she noticed four shallow indentations in her palm from her sharpened nails. She’d filed them herself with a jagged rock, making them as sharp as possible. Now she was bleeding, and it was Randy’s fault. He was making her feel weird.
She wondered if there was some way she could keep him for herself.
The idea triggered a cramping lug in her stomach that she felt all the way down her thighs. It also caused her to wonder why she even wanted to risk doing so.
If I didn’t tell anyone about him…
Last year, the thought of boys had made her gag. Now, her stomach threatened to fold in on itself if she didn’t get to have a few seconds alone with him. What would she say? What could she say? She must look like something from the wild. I am. Stroking her hair, she felt tangled knots of hair, clumped with mud and blood and fragments of leaves and twigs. She looked down at herself. Her skin was tanned but grimy and filthy with muck. Her legs seemed to glow like a trophy. Poking out the tips of her burlap slippers were the yucky black knobs of her toes and the out of control toenails sprouting from their tips. They were not unlike rotted olives with chicken bones stabbed into the holes.
Gross.
Her mind seemed so jumbled, her thoughts as out of place as a word-search puzzle in which she was trying to circle words out of random letters.
Maggie stood up. Her legs tingled as the blood flowed back from sitting on her knees. She stretched. Once her muscles felt relaxed, she started walking. Not in the direction of their camp, but to another section of the woods where she could see the house better.
She just wanted another peek at the man before going back. Finding a good spot behind another tree, she sat down and removed the knife from her sheath. She pulled her foot into her lap, using the blade to trim her nails.
Ted
Ted sucked in a mouthful of smoke and inhaled. Heat swirled through his lungs, prickling inside his chest like little taps. Exhaling, a cloud of gray fanned out before him from the cigarette smoke and cold air.
He was sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, enjoying an after-dinner cigarette. Debbie had made a large pan of chicken pot pie for dinner, which Ted had glutted himself on. And now he was watching the sun dip down behind the tall trees. The scenery reminded him of the mountains in Kentucky. He used to go fishing and camping out there often, back when he could afford it. During those quests, he’d grown to prefer the outdoors over his apartment in Singleton. Now he looked for any reason to get away from that cramped space he called home. Even if the reason was venturing to a house tucked away from civilization to do grunt work for a couple weeks.
Raised in the city by parents who despised the outdoors, it wasn’t until he met Emily that he took his first hiking trip. Where he was a babe in the woods in every sense, she was outdoorsy and an experienced naturist. She’d guided him through it, like a mother holding the hand of a toddler during his first steps. And she’d done just that—held his hand as they’d hiked high into the mountains. They reached areas on ridges where he could glance over the ledge and see nothing but countless feet of space before the dark green blurs of trees far down below. The heights had made him dizzy, almost sick to his stomach.
He smiled, remembering when he’d sat down on the narrow track she’d called a trail and hugged his legs. She’d urged him to continue, but he’d only shaken his head, shouting at her for forcing him to gamble with his life. They’d camped there, in the woods a ways off the path, and in the morning he’d felt a tad braver and she’d convinced him to travel all the way to the top.
The view from there was still etched into his brain as being the most magnificent experience of his life. Nothing could compare. He hadn’t been back to that peak since his time there with Emily. Maybe one day he would.
But he doubted it.
The doorknob rattling pulled Ted away from his lamented reminiscences. He glanced up to see Steph bumping the screen door open with her hip.
She looked to the left and straight ahead, before finally spotting him to her right. “There you are,” she said.
“Here I am.”
“Thought maybe you’d taken off already.”
“Nah. You haven’t run me off yet.”
“Good for me,” she said. The screen door banged shut behind her. She winced. “Wow. Loud.”
“Need to replace the spring.”
“Add it to the list, right?”
“That’s a pretty damn long list.”
Smiling, Steph crossed in front of him and sat down in the rocking chair to his right. “That list will be the length of the Bible before too long.”
Ted laughed. A giant spool that had once probably had cable coiled around it was now a table that separated their chairs. All that was on top was an iron ashtray that Ted squished out his cigarette in.
Steph shivered, pulling her thick white coat tighter around her. To Ted, it looked as if she were wearing a giant marshmallow with sleeves. “Are you done already?” she asked.
“Nope. The sun hasn’t gone all the way down yet.” He pointed to the carroty-colored sky smeared with pink and purple streaks.
Steph looked at the vision before them and gasped. “That’s so lovely.”
Ted clamped another cigarette between his lips. “It is.” He lighted it. “Want one?” Holding the pack out to her, he shook it. Cigarettes scraped around inside the box.
“I’d love one.” She took the pack, removed a cigarette and put it in her mouth. Leaning over, she lowered her head as Ted put the flame to the tip. Then she leaned back and sighed, the cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth.
Seeing how her face was slightly pinched to hold the cigarette, Ted noticed premature wrinkling in her eyes and cheeks. “So,” he said.
“So?” She glanced at him, smiled, then turned her eyes back in front of her.
“Tell me about Steph. What in the hell did you do to get stuck out here?”
Laughing, Steph clamped the cigarette between two fingers and removed it from her mouth. “I wasn’t sentenced here.”
“Well…”
She held up a hand. “I know what you mean. You’re asking why I took a job out here, in the middle of nowhere, right?”
“Among other questions, yes.”
“Something bad must have happened to send me all the way out here.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“And you’re right,” she said. “And I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow when we’re on our way.”
Ted frowned. How she’d said it—he wondered if he’d agreed to something he’d already forgotten about. “Pardon?”
“When we’re heading out to explore Doverton’s landmarks.”
Ted stared at Steph, waiting on her to laugh. She didn’t. Her eyes were aimed at the setting sun, a slight tranquil smile on her lips.
“We’re going out there?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“And just how do you think we’re going to get there.”
“Walk, of course.”
“Oh, of course.”
She nodded. “All the things I want to see are spread all around this house anyway, so there’s no problem.”
“Just a few.”
“Name them.”
“Well, we’re not going, for starters.”
“Yes, we are.”
“Nope.”
“I’m going, and I know you’re the kind of guy who wouldn’t let me go alone. So you’ll be coming with me.”
Ted was surprised by her confidence, yet even more than that, he
was angry that she was correct in her simple observations. He would go with her, if for nothing else than those reasons she’d pointed out. Sighing, he said, “Why do you want to go so bad?”
“I just want to see it.”
“Do you have some kind of morbid obsession with death?”
Her head turned to him. The empty look in her face told him she did. “It’s more than that.”
“More than a morbid obsession?”
“It fascinates me.”
“Death?”
“No—I mean, yes. I don’t like when people die, but I get a small thrill out of exploring areas where something bad happened.”
“Thrill-seeker Steph, at your service.”
She rolled her eyes. “Lots of people do it.”
“I doubt very many have come to Doverton, other than our pal back at the diner. Mister Moustache, I think was his name.”
Steph smirked, shook her head. “It’s his job to come out here. But I bet plenty of people come out here on their own.”
“Chances are they never make it back.”
Steph rolled her eyes again. The childish gesture was beginning to annoy him.
“Come on, Ted. That was three years ago. If things were still going on, we’d have heard about it.”
“Oh yeah? Didn’t the guy at the diner say two girls vanished back in the summer?”
“I seriously doubt it’s related.”
Ted couldn’t believe her stubbornness and her refusal to accept facts. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Clearly.”
A realization hit Ted hard enough to knock him out of his chair. He was surprised he hadn’t made the connection when she’d mentioned Ed Gein earlier. “What happened in Doverton is why you took this job, isn’t it?”
Her shoulder jerked upward in a quick shrug, like a teenager being asked if she’s enjoying spending time with her parents.
“It is, isn’t it?” asked Ted.
“Not the whole reason, but when I looked into the place, I stumbled upon the information.”
“And you didn’t say anything in the car?”
“You think I’d admit I knew about it. The hounds were already tearing me apart for wanting to stop and look around.”
Ted opened his mouth to argue but stopped. What was the point? She’d already won this disagreement, establishing Ted’s character to a degree that was slightly astounding. Mostly it pissed him off for being so easily decipherable. “There’s no talking you out of this, is there?”
“Nope. There’s a map of the area in the office. I saw it when Randy gave us the tour earlier. I snuck a quick peek at it after dinner.”
“Yeah? How’d you do that?”
“Snatched it. We can get to Whisper Lake through the woods. It’ll take us some time, but it’s doable. And this Mystic Lane people keep talking about is just a stretch of farm road that connects this property to the cornfields farther back.”
“And what are we going to tell the others?”
“Nothing.”
“When would we leave?”
“Probably after lunchtime would be good.”
“Wow, you’ve got it all figured out.”
“Yep.”
Ted squished out the cigarette in the ashtray. She was determined to get what she wanted and, with or without him, she would. “All right.”
“You’ll go?”
“What choice do I have?”
She dropped the cigarette so she could clap her hands and squeal. “Thank you!”
In a swift and smooth motion, she jumped out of the chair. Before he could ask what she was doing, her arms were already around his neck and her lips pressing against his. Their curvy softness felt cold but warmed as they smeared slobbery trails across his. She tasted like cigarette smoke, but he didn’t mind because he was sure he tasted the same to her. They kissed for several long seconds. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling at the moist mound with her teeth.
Her mouth tore away with a smack. “You won’t regret it.” She gave him a final quick peck, then headed for the door. “Randy said something about a bonfire, so I’m going inside to find out what the status is on that.”
Ted couldn’t speak, so he nodded instead.
Steph went inside, leaving Ted alone on the porch. He realized he’d missed the sun make its final descent. The sky was now a deep-purple hue that was darkening by the second.
“Damn,” he muttered, and fired up another cigarette.
Brooke
She knew Maggie was out there, unseen behind the trees and the obscurity they provided. The moon was out, but on this isolated stretch of gravel, the trees reached over from each side and touched, blocking the dim light. She shivered in the cold, saw the heat of her panting breaths as they exited her mouth.
Something crunched, a stick snapped. A footstep?
“Maggie?” she whispered.
Silence fell over the woods once again.
Brooke felt her throat tightening. “Please…help me, Maggie.”
I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.
She’d cried for months. No more tears would be shed because of the Haunchies or her little sister. Though it was faint, she held on to the hope that Maggie would come to her wits. Maggie’s naïveté had made it easy for the Haunchies to brainwash her. Hopefully it wasn’t too late for Maggie. Maybe if Brooke could get her away from the Haunchies’ wicked influence, she’d go back to normal.
And how am I supposed to do that?
Brooke was tied to a tree in the middle of nowhere, at the end of a busted dirt road. Her arms were pulled behind the tree, held there by some kind of leathery rope. Another line had been wrapped around her ankles. She was stuck standing here. Besides, if she somehow got loose, those in the woods would come out and catch her before she got very far.
And her sister was one of them.
Maggie would probably take pride in bringing her down and tying her up again.
She couldn’t see them, but she felt them. Their eyes were everywhere, blanketed by thick darkness between the towering trees. If she swiped a flashlight’s beam across the woods, a dozen or more eyes would glow in its flash.
Brooke didn’t think they’d brought her here to kill her. After bathing her and shaving all the hair off her body except what was on her head, the miniature women dressed her in a thin white gown that felt like tissue paper. The wispy garment clung to her body and did nothing to warm her. She couldn’t stop shivering. Her nipples jabbed at the delicate material. Her skin felt hard and tight. The bottoms of her feet were numb from the frosted ground beneath.
The bathing, the grooming, the meticulous brushing of her hair until it was like flawless silk and the circlet of flowers they’d put on her head made sense when she allowed herself to accept it.
They’re offering me.
Brooke looked at the oily darkness surrounding her. A thin layer of fog rose from the tall grass and coiled around the trees like white, hazy snakes. No sounds could be heard. It was like watching a movie on mute. Not even a cricket seemed to be nearby. Maybe it was the cold that had caused it, but she knew the real reason was due to the scarce wildlife population. They’d moved on. She wished she could as well. She wanted to be with her family again. She missed her parents, her home, her bed.
And she even missed Maggie. The old Maggie. Not what she’d become.
All along, Maggie had known these things?
Brooke couldn’t begin to fathom her sister’s motivations. She still had nightmares about finding Tom’s gutted torso on the couch. And knowing her own sister had allowed the creatures who’d done it into the house made her feel weak and pathetically hopeless.
She saw a swoop of light up ahead.
Brooke sucked in a short breath. A glow spread through the trees, vanishing behin
d thicker stands of saplings. The faint sound of tires on gravel could be heard in the far distance.
Someone was coming.
The smile on Brooke’s face felt odd. It had been so long since her lips had attempted one, she’d almost forgotten how. Now she had a reason to smile. Somebody was out here. And from how the noise of the vehicle was growing louder, she grasped they were heading her way.
“Thank you, God…”
She wondered who might be this far out at this hour, and as the soft purr of an engine grew louder she realized she didn’t much care.
Headlights appeared in the open space between the woods. Two giant orbs of blinding light smeared into a combined shimmer that overtook the road. Brooke squinted, turning her head away from its bright shine.
As her eyes adjusted, she attempted another look. The vehicle was large, sitting high up on large wheels. An SUV of some kind with a cordon of metal bars across the front. Her eyes moved up. The windshield was a solid bar of darkness. She couldn’t see the driver. But when her eyes traveled even higher, she saw a rack running along the top and felt her smile stretch as if trying to tap her earlobes.
A bar of lights. She could just make out the red and blue screens.
“Thank you!” she screamed. “Help me!”
The SUV stopped. She heard the gears click and the engine go steady. The driver’s door opened and she saw with welcomed glee the giant gold star stretched across it. Sheriff was printed underneath.
Joyous sobs shook Brooke against the tree. Tears flowed from her eyes.
Then she remembered the others in the woods. She needed to warn him.
Leaving the headlights on, a man climbed out of the giant vehicle. He was tall, stocky. Even in the heavy blackness, she could see his broad shoulders jutting out like a football player. He held a shotgun down by his side in one hand, the other was empty.
The Lurking Season Page 8
