The Lurking Season

by Kristopher Rufty

  But another realization struck her. All of this comprehension occurring in the flash of a second—Piper was the reason Amy had called in the first place.

  If he hadn’t roughed her up, Amy would be still at his house, probably hopping up and down on his cock like the good servant she was. If anyone should share the blame with that bitch, it was Piper Conwell.

  Wendy felt the demented smile pull at her mouth.

  “Turn around, sweetheart,” he said. “Let me look at you.”

  Even with the fires blazing in the background, and the Haunchies scouring the woods to find them, Piper was so confident in himself he didn’t worry. What he didn’t realize, was the person he should be most worried about was standing in front of him.

  Wendy did as he wanted, turning slowly so he could take her in. Her tank top was torn, the bra strap on her shoulder was snapped. Her bare breast was exposed behind the sagging green flap of her shirt. His eyes would focus on the breast, the sweaty varnish causing it to glow in the firelight.

  And his eyes did just what she’d expected. They locked on her chest.

  Wendy didn’t hesitate. She slapped the barrel of the rifle away from her, stepped forward and threw her leg up. Her foot kicked him in the balls. Piper’s breath snagged, hands dropped over his crotch, and his knees buckled. In an expression that would have made Wendy laugh if she weren’t so pissed off, his eyes crossed, as if trying to work their way through the bridge of his nose to connect.

  As Piper dropped to his knees, Wendy snatched the gun from his hand. She swung it around so that the barrel was now aimed at Piper’s forehead. He hardly seemed to notice as he groaned, the veins in his neck bulging out like cords.

  She flung the hair out of her eyes. She leaned her cheek against the stock’s cool side. It felt good on her heated skin, soothing. Her finger found the trigger.

  But she couldn’t make herself shoot him.

  Not that she felt bad for killing him, it was just too easy. Almost like a pity kill. She wanted him to suffer as Amy had. She’d burned to death, the screams like a baby’s laugh to Wendy’s ears. She wanted Piper to experience the same fate, wanted to hear his screams.

  Wendy looked around. The fire was looming closer, devouring the woods with its flaming teeth. Smoke swirled around them now like fog. It smelled wonderful, slightly sweet with a hint of pine.

  Looking back down at Piper, she saw he hadn’t moved. His eyes still rolled in odd ways.

  “Get up,” she said.

  Piper moaned.

  “Get up or I’ll shoot you in the face.” She thrust the barrel closer, putting its tip directly in front of Piper’s nose.

  Nodding, Piper rose, still clutching his crotch. He held them in a grip that whitened his knuckles into pearls in the dark. He stood before her, leaning forward slightly, holding himself like someone who really needed to pee.

  “Turn around and start walking…”

  “Where?”

  She shouldered the gun.

  “Okay,” he said, holding up a hand. “Okay.”

  Piper turned around and started walking. He staggered as if drunk, one hand squeezing his groin and the other sticking out, bent and swinging like a chicken wing.

  The temperature rose as they neared the flames. She could see them lapping up between the trees like an orange wave. Piper stopped walking. The light from the fire threw a carroty spread around them. His skin looked as if it had been soaked in butter. Tiny beads of sweat slid down the back of his neck.

  He was scared. The fire was so close and he didn’t want to go any farther.

  This will do fine.

  Piper turned his head to the side. She could see one of his eyes, wide and filled with fear, the eyebrow curving into his hairline. His pupil was a dime-sized black hole. “I can’t…the fire…”

  “This is far enough…”

  His eye closed, scrunching up the skin around it, then snapped open. “Wha-what now?”

  Wendy threw her arms out, angling the gun’s hefty stock to the side. It smashed the back of Piper’s head and knocked him forward. He landed on his stomach with his arms stretched above him like a man who’d dived into an empty swimming pool.

  The desire to put a bullet into the back of his skull caused her knees to tremble. She felt her nipples harden into painful points as her finger tickled the trigger. She wanted to so bad, but letting him burn was better.

  It took more strength than she thought possible to force her locked arms to lower the rifle.

  Wood cracked up ahead and a thick branch, doused in flames, fell into the snapping jaws of the wildfire. The crooked bough was gobbled instantly, leaving behind only a few floating flecks of ash.

  Time to go.

  Wendy whirled around and started running. Her bare feet came down on pointy objects that stabbed her feet. Even if they were scraped raw, she was getting the hell away from this awful place.

  Had she known at the time she was pregnant with Gary’s baby, maybe she wouldn’t have wasted so much time with Piper. It was the night in the hotel when he’d knocked her up, she was certain of it. And those extra minutes she’d lost making Piper walk the green mile would have surely abetted her escape.

  She might have even gotten away.

  Erin

  “They caught me shortly after,” said Wendy with a sigh.

  “How?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Erin supposed it didn’t. She wanted to ask about the baby, but didn’t want to seem like she was prying. However, she also didn’t want to come across as some coldhearted bitch who didn’t care about such things.

  Her eyes lowered to Wendy’s engorged belly. She knew it wasn’t the same baby incubating behind the swollen mound. But something was. She could see the impressions it made as it stirred around in there, like feet under a blanket.

  “So did you have the baby?” asked Erin.

  Wendy’s throat quivered, her jaw appearing to become stiff and she had to force it to shut. Her eyes misted over. Erin could see the torches’ flames sparkling in the moisture as if it were glass. She nodded.

  Erin felt her chest go heavy. “My God…did they…?”

  Wendy shook her head. “No. But I’ll be honest…there’re times when I wish they had.”

  “How could you say something like that?”

  “Do you know what it’s like to give birth to a son, only to have him yanked from your womb, still covered in your blood, and taken away?”

  Of course she didn’t…

  “I haven’t even touched my son. Not once. The only glimpse I’ve ever seen of him was when he was born. I’ve been stuck in here, listening to him cry for a mother’s care until he finally passes out from exhaustion. Sure, they feed him enough to live—sometimes I hear him running around out there, laughing. It sounds so sweet and innocent and young, but I also hear Gary in it. Isn’t that weird? He’s never heard his father laugh, but I hear him laughing through our son. I know they’re raising him to be a…thing like them. Something that hunts…kills.”

  “Why would they…?”

  “They need us, Erin. They can’t make it on their own, not in this time. Decades ago it was still hard for them, but they managed. Now it’s impossible. My friend Mary killed the Watcher. We met up with them along the road. Just a group of college kids coming home from a concert. And they became trapped in this nightmare with us. The Watcher took care of the Haunchies, and with him gone so many of them have died off that they’re nearly extinct. They need us…they need psychopaths like Maggie…like Piper…and Gary.” The whites of her eyes were narrow, milky slits through the darkness shrouding them. “I named him after his father…they probably have another name for him, though. If he even has a name.”

  Erin had a hard time processing all this information being thrown at her. She wondered if any of it was true, or ju
st the crazed babblings of a woman who’d lost all hope.

  “How did you…?” began Erin. She didn’t know how to ask Wendy about her current pregnancy, or even if she should. She knew most likely that she did not want to know the answer.

  Wendy must have noticed Erin staring at her projecting stomach. She looked down, then raised her head back up. “Oh this?” Wendy sighed. She tugged at the bottom of the garment, but it still didn’t cover her groin. “I’m just doing what they want. Not like I have any choice…”

  “They raped you?”

  Wendy puckered her lips, nodded. “Seeing their size, you’d think it wouldn’t be much of a rape, am I right? But…” her lip trembled; she bit it, as if to make it stop, “…they have this one…he…” Wendy shook her head. “They call him the Stud…and I know why…”

  The stud?

  “And we’re the bitches,” said Wendy.

  Erin felt a splash of cold stipple her skin in gooseflesh.

  “You’ll know what it’s like soon enough,” said Wendy. “They’ll give you the test and if you pass and can have babies, you will. But if you can’t…well…dinner is served.”

  Erin felt more tears coming. “My God…” she shook her head to jar the sobs away, “…this is insane.”

  “That doesn’t work,” said Wendy, coldly. “I tried convincing myself how crazy this was, hoping I might actually go crazy and it wouldn’t be so bad.” She shook her head. “Nope. Just made me realize even more that I’m fucked. We’re in a lake of shit and can’t swim.”

  “We’ve got to get out here!”

  “Don’t I know it.” She spoke as if agreeing they should get coffee.

  Wendy truly had no hope of seeing outside these disgusting walls again. There was no fight left in her. She had submitted to them. And how could she not? She’d been down here for over three years. Three years! Erin couldn’t even begin to imagine the torment Wendy had endured in all that time.

  One thing Erin knew even more than that: She wasn’t going to join her.

  “I’m serious,” said Erin. “We’re getting our asses out of here.”

  “Oh sure. And how? You’ve been down here half an hour and already have a plan?”

  “No. But I won’t let that stop me.”

  For the first time since meeting her, Wendy’s eyes showed something other than empty hatred. They showed faith. There was a slight sparkle in them, a dim radiance, but it was still there. It looked as if Wendy might actually believe it could be possible.

  “Start thinking of something,” said Erin. “You’ve been here a lot longer than I have.”

  “Even if I did think of something…there’s no way…” Then she got quiet. Her eyes slowly growing. “We’ll have to talk about this later.”

  “What— Why?”

  “I think it’s time for your test.”

  Wendy went limp in her seat. Her eyes lost all proof of life and if Erin wouldn’t have just been talking to her, she would have thought she was dead.

  Erin heard the soft scuffs in the dirt beside her. She turned her head as the ground bulged into a small mound. Dirt sprinkled down, crumbling as an ugly creature dug its way out of the ground. Its translucent skin was like the belly of a fish. Its pink eyes were small inside lids that looked like the buttonholes in a sleeve missing its buttons.

  The tiny atrocity was no bigger than a toddler taking its first steps. Fingernails as long as the fingers themselves curled like talons. Clotted dirt was packed into the dip under the points. The filthy, death-gray skin was streaked with dirt. Naked, its erect penis was the size of a snapped green bean, pointing at her, as if guiding it closer.

  “No…” Erin shook her head. It caused her head to bleed more, but she hardly noticed. “Stay away. Wendy? Help! Help!”

  Wendy didn’t budge, not even a blink. Maybe she truly was dead and all this time Erin had been conversing with her ghost. In this nightmarish hell, anything seemed possible.

  The creature’s dried hands were lined with deep cracks like desiccated soil from lack of rain. He cut the thong tying her feet. She only knew her legs dropped to the ground because she heard them. They were numb, useless and limp.

  The talons lashed out in three gleaming curls, slashing the seat of her pants. It left behind three raked marks, the fabric of her panties furling out in wispy fluffs between the gashes.

  Screaming, Erin begged it to go away.

  It propellered its hands, moving them so quickly all Erin could see was the blur of their actions. She heard the rips and tears as they hacked the back of her pants to ribbons. Sometimes, the sharp nails nicked her skin, leaving slices of fire on her body.

  Then even her panties were torn away in a vicious swipe. Now she was uncovered, her rump exposed through the frayed seat of her pants. Dry hands gripped her ankles, parting her legs. She felt him walking between them.

  “What’s he doing, Wendy? Please…make him stop!”

  She looked over her shoulder again, but could no longer see him.

  A rough and leathery hand slapped a buttock. Erin hissed through clenched teeth, groaning from the pain. Her rump stung as if she’d sat down on hot coals. Its touch felt calloused and scratchy, as if rubbing lotion on her flesh with sandpaper gloves.

  “Stop…please!”

  The hand gripped her rump, hard. She knew it was not doing this with sexual intentions. Just to keep her still. She felt the brittle, crackly hand shove into her, pushing its way deep. Erin’s shrieks bounced off the tight walls like grenade blasts.

  The daggerlike claws prodded around inside, poking and pricking. Blood started to flow, filling her as if she had to pee. Its girth wasn’t much bigger than any man she’d ever been with, but how it freely moved about, pushing things around, caused enough pain to stop her breath.

  The arm plunged deeper, pushing against her insides. Gripped something and carefully rubbed. Erin’s groan turned into a growl. Spit shot from her mouth, spattering the dirt in front of her. The arm did a short twirl inside and pulled back out. The relief of it being gone was wonderful.

  She lay on her stomach, panting, sweat streaming down her face and burning her eyes. She was drained, unable to move.

  Erin felt the mole creature crawl over her thigh, its skin firm and bendy like a rubber mat brushing across her. She heard its squeaky breaths dropping as it retreated into the hole. The dirt fell back into place. Only a few minor scuffs in the dirt showed any proof it had come from there.

  After a few long moments, she heard Wendy say, “You passed the test.”

  Erin couldn’t raise her head off the dingy dirt, couldn’t even open her eyes. She tried to swallow but her manic breathing wouldn’t allow it. “How…how do…you know?”

  “You’re not dead.”

  Piper

  He drove on the isolated roads, taking the graveled stretches that ran lines through the woods. Keeping his speed at a slow but steady pace, he looked out the windows, to the trees whisking by.

  Checking for Brooke.

  He didn’t see where she’d gone, but he was convinced she’d gone into the woods. Didn’t matter which section she’d picked, he knew what direction she was heading. The stupid whore would go back for her sister. Piper planned to intercept her somewhere along the way.

  He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. His nose pointed slightly to one side, the bandage reached across the ridge like a white stripe. The bruising had spread to both eyes, making them puffy and sore.

  Bitch broke my nose.

  Wouldn’t be the first time a woman had fooled him. And each time it’d happened, he’d been led into a level of hell trying to get her back. He needed to stop underestimating retaliations. It had been stupid to try and fuck Brooke on the shower floor. And he’d paid for it with a broken nose.

  Though he was pissed, and Brooke would be severely pu
nished for her actions, he didn’t plan on killing her. Not yet. The thought of ending his fun with Brooke so soon made him antsy. This was the first girl in a long time he’d enjoyed so much. Her body helped. As close to perfect as you could ask for. She could have easily been a model, and he found himself wondering if it was something she’d wanted to do.

  A body like that is great for porno.

  And it was natural. Given to her by God, not a doctor. It reminded him of Amy’s.

  Maybe that was why…

  No.

  He would not allow himself to even consider that. Just because Amy was naturally shaped. Her breasts were large without sagging, and her nipples were tiny and pink. Her hips seemed to flare out above thick thighs that weren’t flabby. He was not favoring Brooke because he missed his old girlfriend.

  Amy.

  His mind flashed a short movie in his head of the firemen discovering her body. He was there when they’d pulled her charred form off the table in that scorched shanty. He remembered how it had sounded when her skin was peeled off the scalded, flat surface, like packaging tape stripped from the roll. At the time, he hadn’t known it was Amy. Dental records later proved it was.

  Sometimes he awoke in the middle of the night, body slick in gelid sweat, from a nightmare of that crispy body coming to his window and beckoning him outside. Long hanks of dark hair slithering out from her head like snakes. In the dreams, he would go to her and she would lie down on the grass, spread her legs for him and point at the scorched ingress between her thighs.

  Though repulsed by her appearance, he would feel his penis stiffening, remembering how good it used to feel being inside Amy.

  “Put it in me, Piper,” she’d say, her voice a rasping reverb.

  Then he’d crawl on top of her, push into her. It felt hot inside of her, like dipping himself into a heated tub of jelly. Her flaky skin still felt warm against his, from the fire, like a crusty shell on a roasted marshmallow. When he gripped her breasts, brittle scales broke off in his hand. As he thrust his hips, little slivers of black sprinkled off, coating the ground around them in pepper-like topping.