The Lurking Season

by Kristopher Rufty

  Confused, she twisted her head so she could see what it was. Somehow she hadn’t noticed the faintly glowing shape earlier.

  It looked like a handle.

  Wiggling her way toward it, she began to make out a drawing on the front. It was a stick figure leaping from an opened trunk. Lines traced an escape route away from the illustration.

  Is this…?

  She reached out—her fingers slipped into the plastic grooves—

  And pulled down.

  There was a moment of resistance before the trunk lid popped open.

  It rose a few inches before slowly coming back down, waving in its frame.

  No way!

  Reaching up, her hands shoved the lid high. It flew open, exposing her skin to the cold air and snow that continued to pour down.

  Brooke sat up as if she were on an ab machine, feeling the muscles in her belly pull. She threw a leg over the lip of the trunk, sat up as if straddling it and stepped down. The snow was cold and soft under her foot. She pressed down so she could bring her other leg out, and felt the snow starting to shift under her. Keeping a firm grip on the trunk, she got her other leg out. This time the snow didn’t feel as cold.

  She grabbed the frame where the license plate sat and jerked the lid down. It banged shut.

  First thing she did was crouch in the ditch, hike the gown around her hips and relieve her bladder. Warm liquid splashed her ankles. When she finished, she ran away from the dark puddle and up to the driver’s side of the car.

  Even before she checked, she figured Piper had taken the keys. She was right. The ignition was empty. A squeaky groan escaped her. She’d known what she would find, but still it was devastating blow to her gained momentum. Maybe it would be better if she gave up at this point, cut her losses. The urge to sit in the car until she froze to death was a weak possibility in her mind. Maybe she’d wake up in heaven, if there was one.

  Maybe not.

  She hadn’t exactly lived a Christlike life, had she?

  Maybe there’s a spare key!

  The thought burst in her head with such ferocity she was thrown back against the car. Smooth fiberglass smacked her buttocks. “Yes…” she whispered, “…a spare!”

  Everybody had keys hidden somewhere on their cars. She wouldn’t doubt Chad did as well. Even Brooke had one on her car.

  Realizing she hadn’t sat behind the wheel of any kind of car in several months triggered more tears, but she ignored them as she started looking around. She stumbled here and there, nearly falling on her face.

  Getting down on all fours, she reached under the front tire. She felt around hard plastic, lumpy metal objects and lots of grease. Just as she’d decided she wasn’t going to find anything, her fingers brushed across a small case. It was near the fender, but higher up. She clamped two fingers on its edges and pulled it off the metal wall without much difficulty.

  She sat back on her knees, raised the case closer to her face and read the words that made her squeak with glee. HIDE-A-KEY. The silver gleam of the fancy font filled her with warmth. Tears spilled from her eyes when she shook the case and heard the key knocking around inside.

  She slid the lid out of the edging, grabbed the key inside and tossed the empty case away. Back on her feet, she jerked the door open and climbed in. The comfortable cushions of the seat welcomed her aching body. Though the car hadn’t been running for several minutes, it was still much warmer inside than out. She pulled the door closed and hit the Lock button. The synchronized thump of both doors locking was comforting.

  Sticking the key into the ignition, she was hesitant of cranking it. She wouldn’t have been surprised if somehow the car wouldn’t start. Just like every horror movie she’d ever seen, a car with a clean bill of health suddenly conks out. How her life had been the last several months, it seemed only natural.

  However, when she twisted the key, the engine roared. Squealing, Brooke patted the steering wheel with both hands. She danced in the seat. Finally, something in her favor after so much despair. It was almost too much for her to bear.

  Pushing the brake down, she reached for the gearstick and paused. Heather’s purse sat in the floorboard. Seeing it down there made Brooke sad. Her belongings were inside, common items that most women liked to use. Maybe even some things more personal than the routine stock. She looked away from the depressing reminder that Heather would soon be in Haunchy clutches, thanks to Piper.

  Piper needs to die.

  Killing him wouldn’t make up for it, but it was a damn great place to start. She knew he was going to wait for her in the village. And she planned to find him. If she could convince Maggie to leave with her, fine. If not, that was fine too. Either way, Piper’s ass would never leave that hellhole again.

  Brooke slammed the gear into Drive. Wanting to stamp the gas, she restrained herself and only lowered her foot gently. The tires needed to go slowly over the cat litter, anything fast would only throw the litter all over, digging the wheels deeper into the ground.

  She’d seen her father do this trick more than once, so she had an idea of how the process worked.

  She felt the tires spin under her. The engine raged as she applied more gas. Wheels spun, whirring and bucking.

  “Come on, baby,” said Brooke through clenched teeth. She spoke as if she were behind the car, pushing with all her strength.

  The wheels whirred. Dirt smacked the undercarriage. Spatters of mud streaked across the windows, causing her to recoil with a sharp gasp.

  Please work…please!

  More gas. The engine now seemed to growl like a bear.

  I’m pushing it too hard.

  The car moved slightly forward. The wheels seemed to catch a grip on the litter but quickly lost it. Come on, you stupid piece of shit! Brooke stomped the gas harder. She didn’t think the engine could get any louder, but it did. She felt its thunderous cry in her chest, vibrating her lungs that felt as if they’d shrunk, stealing her breath.

  Then the car lobbed forward. Brooke was thrown back against her seat. She screamed. The car bounded the small hill, swerving when it reached the road. Quickly, Brooke took her foot off the gas, allowing the car to carry itself around. The wheels skidded across the snow, throwing out an arc of fluffy white. It slowed to a crawl halfway over the center lane.

  Eyes scrunched shut, she sat there breathing heavily. She was freezing just moments ago, but now felt sweat dotting her brow and pasting her hair to her forehead. Both hands gripped the wheel. She ran her tongue across her lips, exhaled through her nose.

  Almost lost it there.

  She took another deep breath to calm herself and was surprised that it was working. Her heart rate slowed to a not-so-drumming beat.

  She turned the wheel slightly to the right. The roads out here weren’t salted, so the snow was really piling up. She’d have to be careful straightening the car. She was about to try when her eyes glimpsed Heather’s pocketbook in the floorboard. Sometime during the spinning, it had toppled over and spilled everything onto the carpet. The light from the instrument panel glinted off a metal surface. Even in the dim light, she could interpret its unmistakable shape.

  It was a handgun. Small in size, with a decently sized hole in the barrel. Appearance aside, she was willing to bet it could do serious damage to whomever it was pointed at.

  Wendy

  She tugged at the chains connected to the cuffs on Erin’s wrists. They were bolted to the tree, and from the apparent corrosion on the fastener, she guessed they had been for some time. It looked as if the tree had sprouted the chains. There was nothing she could do to get Erin loose.

  “I can’t get you out of there without the key,” she told Erin.

  Erin hardly seemed to hear the unfortunate confession. She couldn’t rip her tear-soaked eyes away from the Stud’s dead body. She didn’t even react when Wendy thumped the ha
nd wrapped in what looked like corn leaves.

  There were other ways of knocking off the bastard, but breaking his enormous penis like a pencil was a much more suitable measure to Wendy.

  But maybe witnessing the savagery had completely screwed Erin up.

  “Erin, listen to me.”

  Erin’s eyes finally acknowledged Wendy, but didn’t dawdle on her long before switching back to the Stud. “I heard…you.”

  “I’ll have to get the key. That might take some time…”

  “You can’t leave me here!”

  Wendy slapped her hand over Erin’s mouth, using more force than necessary. She could feel Erin huffing against her fingers. “Shut your mouth. I didn’t have to come back for you at all. Keep your goddamn voice down or you’ll bring the others to us, understand?”

  Erin nodded, her lips sloshing against Wendy’s skin. The stinging connection seemed to bring some of her focus back.

  “I’ll be back, okay?”

  If I can.

  Erin closed her eyes, nodded.

  Wendy stood up. Her large, overpacked belly was making her back hurt. The fire was starting to dim, painting Erin’s features in shadows.

  Wendy kind of liked Erin, though she’d be okay with leaving her here. She’d come to spare her the Stud’s violating ways. Could’ve not bothered. She hadn’t expected her to be shackled already, and that complicated things. She wanted to move quickly, to find little Gary and get the hell out of here. It would be harder without help, though. So, Wendy had to rescue Erin by default, even with her messed-up hand.

  She grabbed a couple logs from the pile at the edge of the clearing and took them to the fire. It kindled, brightening the area as the flames traveled over each piece. If it were up to her, she’d let the fire die. Nothing hides what you’ve done like darkness. However, if somebody were to notice the Stud’s camp had gone dark, that would bring unwanted trouble.

  And Erin would need the heat, which was really important.

  Through with the fire, she walked into the darkness that enclosed the small clearing. Her night vision was ruined, so she would have to be careful as she made her way around the trees. Until her eyes adjusted to the dark, she was basically walking blind. At least the snow made the ground visible.

  Though much smaller, the camp was still laid out as it had been when she was first brought here by the original Watcher. She hadn’t gone much farther than her small hut in a very long time, but she doubted there had been any significant renovations made. Luckily, the Haunchies no longer considered her a threat and treated her like a slave instead of a prisoner. She was a surrogate for them, somebody to push out Haunchy babies by the litter.

  Looking down at herself, she saw the pale hump of her belly. If she got out of here, what the hell could she do about this? She knew if she birthed these tiny monsters in a hospital, it would bring a whirlwind of shit her way. The babies would probably be taken for experiments, and maybe so would she, for that matter. There was no telling what would happen.

  They might take Gary from her as well, since he’d become a part of their clan. He basically was one of them since he’d been raised to know nothing else. How would she reprogram his mind to accept a life outside of these woods?

  No idea.

  Being completely clueless and afraid did nothing to dissuade her as she headed toward the younglings’ camp. She had no desire to kill any of her bastardized births, but she also had no qualms about doing so. She wanted Gary, and if anybody tried to stop her from taking him, they would have to die.

  Wendy came to a thicket of ancient trees that spread through the woods like a wall. Their branches curled upward and spiraled into a gnarly dome. She scanned the upper regions for the hidden nests of Haunchy guards. She knew they were there, but hopefully they had no idea she was. Letting her eyes focus on the murky shadows, she could differentiate the true foliage from the artificial. She counted four nests that most likely contained two Haunchies in each.

  To the untrained eye, it would only be trees. But Wendy saw them for what they really were: an ambush for anybody unfortunate enough to stumble across them.

  Screams pierced the stillness of the night. They came from the direction she would have to go in to keep one of the tree-hidden guards from spotting her.

  More screams came, rising in frantic pitches. A woman was begging, trying to bargain with her captors. Another one? In years, the women they’d managed to nab had been scarce, and none of them lasted very long. Either by dying or being given to Piper.

  With caution and her guard up, Wendy slinked among the trees. The snow made soft, crunchy sounds as her feet left tracks.

  If anyone sees my footprints…

  She couldn’t worry about that now.

  The golden glow of torches and a campfire reflected off the snow in a coppery mist that drifted through the trees. It lit patches that Wendy dodged as she crept closer to the source of the cries.

  Reaching a small barrier of bushes and vines, she crouched. Thick and twiggy, the wall was capped with snow and smelled vaguely of dirt and urine. It made for difficult visuals, so she reached inside the bush, gouging out a small space she could look through.

  Through the hole, she saw a woman on her knees. She was dressed, though lacking a coat. Her wrists were bound with thin, leathery thongs and pulled taut to her sides. It took two Haunchies to secure each arm in place. Though she couldn’t tell if another thong had been tied around her ankles, Wendy figured there was one.

  The woman was very pretty behind her emotions, hair styled in a disarray of pigtails. Her face, soiled with tears, looked puffy and pink.

  A trio of Haunchy women crossed in front of Wendy.

  Wendy bit down on her lip to stifle a gasp. Forgetting about the bushy obstacle blocking her, she sighed when she realized she’d spotted the minute women through the peephole.

  They approached the blubbering woman. Two of them dabbed her face, neck and hands with rough-textured rags that looked stained already. The third held a large basin of scented, soapy water. Wendy was very familiar with the process, having undergone it many times herself. She was sure Erin had as well. A ritual cleansing before the examination. Then she would be offered to the Stud.

  The Stud is no longer accepting applicants, thank you.

  Wendy felt herself smile at that. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt something in her life merited such a candid gesture.

  At the hotel…

  Her last night with Gary, before everything changed. The night he’d gotten her pregnant. Would things have been different for them if it had happened sooner? Would he have been so keen to bail out Amy yet again? If Wendy would have been carrying Gary’s child, would Amy have been tempted to leave Piper in the first place? If Gary was devoted to her and their kid, which he would have been, Wendy doubted Amy would have even considered a future with Gary. She would have never gotten the guts to walk out on Piper and none of this would have happened.

  Too many ifs…

  If she dared allow herself to dwell on circumstances, she would see how cruel fate truly was. For months, she’d allowed such foolishness as regret and guilt to cause her many sleepless nights. Then she’d just sort of let the nothingness take effect. It was easier than she’d ever thought possible, shutting herself off from it all. Didn’t make her oblivious to the impractical woe she was in, but it helped make it seem less real. As if she were watching it happening to someone else through fragmented nightmares of intense varieties.

  The woman out there has no idea what she’s in for.

  Lights raked across the trees as the sound of an engine tore through the soft chatter of the scene before her. Wendy sank even lower to the ground, her hands digging into the snow. She was surprised how little she’d felt the cold until now. Her adrenaline and fear had kept her blood flowing so much she hadn’t even noticed it. Tha
t was fading quickly and she was beginning to shiver all over. Her sweaty hair felt like an ice-soaked towel around her neck. The burlap was glued to her skin.

  But the noise from the familiar engine pushed away the cold. This time it wasn’t the exertion of her escape attempts or the victorious thrill she’d experienced when she’d ripped the Stud’s cock off. It was anger. Pure anger.

  Piper.

  The Haunchy women began to scramble around, running in all directions and shouting in that squeaky tenor of theirs. Obviously this stopover from their beloved Watcher wasn’t one they’d been expecting.

  Heather

  Heather saw Debbie and a wave of pure sorrow went through her. Debbie started to laugh, dancing on her knees as happiness came over her. Heather knew why. It was seeing her friend walking toward her with the sheriff. Debbie hadn’t even noticed Heather was clutched by her arm and being dragged toward them. She also didn’t seem concerned by the hulking bandage over his nose from the attack that had led to Brooke’s escape.

  “Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” Tears of bliss welled in Debbie’s eyes. The smile on her mouth curved high. “Thank God you’re here, thank God!”

  Heather saw little creatures scurrying around in a panic. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before. So ugly, so frightening, they moved freely like ghosts. The size of raccoons, they were dressed in coarse fabric that hung around their bodies like cloaks. She heard high-pitched snarls and dialogue she couldn’t understand. While Heather focused on all this, Debbie continued to praise God and thank Piper and Heather for coming to her aid.

  Piper stopped in front of her, slinging Heather to the ground. For the first time since they’d arrived, Heather noticed Debbie’s smile starting to falter.

  “Where’s Warder?” he asked.

  A creature whose face was a volley of scars approached him. “Why do you want to see him?”

  “Just fetch him for me.”