The Hunting of Malin

by Sean Thomas Fisher

  Her eyes brightened behind her shades. “Next time?”

  Leaning over, he kissed her as if she were made of glass, melting her insides with the warmth of his lips. They shared an easy smile over a comfortable moment of silence, the birds singing around them and her heart pitter-pattering in her chest.

  “What’re we looking for out here anyway?”

  He set his drink in the cup holder between them. “Anything that doesn’t look right,” he replied, opening the glovebox and brushing a hand against her knee as he reached inside, sending sparks shooting through her. “We go where your vision started and follow it through to the end.”

  “Does everyone carry a gun?” she asked, watching him pull out a black 9mm.

  “Don’t you watch the news? It’s a messed-up world out there, doll.” Ejecting the magazine, he inspected it and slapped it back in with a palm. “And you know what they say…when seconds count, the police are only minutes away.” He flashed her a tightlipped smile and shut the glovebox, brushing her leg again in the process. “Not to mention I don’t feel like getting eaten by a bear today.”

  Straightening her black tank top, Malin unenthusiastically left the relative safety of the truck and followed him down the same trail she nearly died on the morning before, wincing a little with every step she took. She watched her shoes – an old pair of Adidas she could afford to get dirty – thinking this was a waste of time but not wanting to say it aloud because she enjoyed being with Holden. He was nothing like Tor and she couldn’t wait until their next time.

  “Do you always keep your wedding ring in the glovebox?”

  Holden laughed without slowing. “I keep it there in case my truck gets broken into. That way I can legally collect insurance on it.”

  “You are terrible.”

  Dark clouds rolled in and blotted out the late morning sun, feeding the shadows and taking some of the edge off the humidity. She was thankful for that but couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching them from the trees. This was the last place the killer struck and she prayed it would stay that way. Maybe Roscoe, or whoever it was, got it out of their system. Maybe they cut their losses and left town while the getting was good. Or maybe the silhouette of someone standing off to the right was the killer watching from a group of nearby pines. Malin removed her sunglasses, a scream wedged in her throat. She blinked and the shadow was gone. Had never been there to begin with. Her phone rang, making her flinch.

  Holden looked back. “Jumpy much?”

  The blood drained from her face as she stared at the screen. “It’s Roscoe.”

  “Answer it.”

  “No way. What do I say?”

  He laughed. “Ask him what he did last night.”

  The cell rang again and Malin watched the signal drop from two bars to one. “Hello?”

  “What up, May?”

  “Uh, not much, just out for a walk,” she responded, hanging her shades from her shirt and trading a nervous look with Holden, who smiled and continued down the winding trail.

  Silence bloomed. “A walk? Where?” Roscoe asked, suspicion lacing his tone. She was sure of it.

  “Around the neighborhood. What’re you doing?” she said, imagining him choking his chicken right now like it was no big thing. Like he nonchalantly whipped it out whenever the mood struck: In the car. At the bar. On line at the bank.

  “I’m at the bar, waiting on the Bud guy to show up. Thought I’d see how you’re doing.”

  “I’ve been better,” she replied, catching a weird look from Holden.

  “Tell me about it. Between the bear almost killing us and finding Amber’s body, I hardly slept a wink last night.”

  She cringed at the mention of last night and struggled to push the image of Roscoe hiding in the bush from her mind. “Me neither.”

  “Any more visions?”

  She swallowed dryly, recalling the way Holden pinned her arms over her head last night. “Not yet.”

  “Good.” Roscoe exhaled into the line. “Listen, you wanna grab some dinner tomorrow night? I think we should come up with a plan.”

  “Plan?”

  “Hey Brandy, you’re looking good today!”

  Malin creased her brow. “Hello?”

  “Sorry, Brandy just came in to get ready for the lunch shift.”

  “Brandy?”

  “Yeah, new waitress. You might’ve met her Saturday night, hot brunette with big eyes.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “We’re going out tonight.”

  The nightmare she awoke from this morning shuddered through her mind, twisting her insides into knots. “Really?”

  “Don’t tell Lisa,” he whispered, breaking into a bout of odd sounding laughter. “So how about it? Dinner tomorrow night? My treat.”

  “Umm, maybe. Let me see what’s going on and get back to you.” Her eyebrows drew together in the awkward silence that followed. Leaves tickled her cheeks as she descended the thin trail. “Hello? Ross?” She looked at the screen to see the call disconnected and zero bars.

  “What’d he say?” Holden asked, gun jiggling on his hip.

  “He wants to do dinner tomorrow night,” she answered, slipping the cell into a back pocket.

  “Dinner?” Holden grunted. “Better make sure he takes you someplace dark and secluded.”

  “You’re not funny.” She stepped over a fallen tree that wasn’t there yesterday. “He’s taking out a new waitress tonight named Brandy.”

  Holden stopped and Malin nearly ran into him. “The same Brandy from your dream?”

  Nodding faintly, his scent stirred her insides.

  “Then maybe your dream is starting to come true.”

  “I doubt we’re going to end up getting cornered by Holly Banner’s walking corpse anytime soon.”

  “If we do, I’m shooting for the head this time.” Holden continued down the trail, adjusting the hip holster. “Maybe your visions are starting to give hints of the future because that’s some fucked up shit right there. I mean, what’re the odds you have a dream about them out on a date and then they have a first date the very next day? Think about it.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Feel sorry for Brandy though. She could be barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Should we follow them tonight? Just in case.”

  He chuckled. “I’m starting to think you can’t live without me.”

  Something moved in the trees and Holden sinuously drew the handgun, pointing it off to the left side of the trail. Malin’s feet grew roots, planting her in place.

  “What is it?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know but you and your stories about bears and serial killers got me freaked out.” Panning the gun from left to right, he peered into the shadowy woods. “Probably just a deer.”

  Malin found herself clinging to the back of his sweaty t-shirt. “Or Holly Banner.”

  “That’s actually what I’m afraid of the most. I don’t do ghosts.”

  “I thought you don’t do food courts.”

  “That either.” Holstering the gun when nothing showed itself, they passed the juneberry shrub and Malin recounted the story of the cute bear cub. Holden scanned the trees with a renewed sense of urgency, eventually entering a clearing where dried blood and fluttering police tape were all that remained of the crime scene. Well, that and the image of a bloodstained Amber Rowe haunting Malin’s thoughts.

  “What’re you doing?”

  Crouching, Holden ran his hand across the ground, carefully sweeping some pine needles off to the side. “What size shoe do you wear, May? A ten?”

  Her jaw hit the dirt. “Try an eight, Holden,” she snapped, eyes drifting to the bloody tree she and Roscoe found Amber leaning against.

  Holden stood up and rested a hand on the butt of his gun, eyes following the ground. “There’re footprints all over the place, hard to tell who’s who. Most are cops and medics.” Turning to face her, he mopped sweat from his brow. “Okay, walk me through your vision a
nd start from the beginning.”

  Malin did as requested and, despite the evil lingering in the trees, a peaceful calm befell her in his company. Unlike yesterday, she felt safe. Like she could trust Holden. Hell, he had almost as much to gain by solving these murders as she did. He could get his name in the press and she could get this monkey off her back.

  “Anything else you can think of?”

  Staring up into his probing eyes, sweat ran into her cleavage. “That’s it.”

  “Nothing else that seemed…off to you.”

  Shaking her head, her eyes thinned. “Wait, there was a deer in my vision.”

  He frowned and thunder cracked in the distance. “Deer?”

  “The killer turned in my direction and I thought he heard me moving but it was just this huge buck that came up behind me.”

  “Buck?” Holden knitted his brow. “But you think the guy heard you?”

  “For a second I did, but it was just the deer he heard.” She pressed a finger to her lips. “I think.”

  He snorted in amusement. “Be creepy if he did hear you in a vision.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Hmm.”

  Frowning, Malin rubbed her bare arms. “What do you think it means?” Lightning pulsed and thunder followed with a low guttural growl that rattled her chest plate.

  “I don’t know,” he replied, scanning the churning sky. “But I should’ve put the top up on the Bronco. Let’s get back before it starts pouring.”

  Malin froze and stared into the trees, voice coming out in a shaky whisper. “Someone is watching us.”

  Holden spun on his heels, hand going to the gun. “Where?”

  “There.”

  He followed her rigid stare into the woods where a tall silhouette blended with the trees. Blinking, he waited for a sign of movement that didn’t come. “Probably just a mushroom hunter,” he whispered, discreetly drawing the weapon and hiding it behind his back.

  “Then why are they just standing there?”

  Holden stepped between Malin and the dark figure. “Hello?” he called out, straining to see.

  The thin shadow watched them without response, refusing to acknowledge its own existence, let alone theirs. Lightning flickered, illuminating the gray outline of someone standing in the woods before melting back into the gloom.

  Holden cleared his throat, hand tightening around the gun grips. “Okay, that’s not creepy or anything,” he said out the corner of his mouth, inching closer.

  Malin tugged on the back of his shirt. “Let’s just leave.”

  “Hello?” Holden tried again in a louder voice. “Everything okay?”

  The figure’s silent reply prickled Malin’s skin and she had to know if it was Roscoe. Maybe this time he was the one doing the following. Sprinkles began tap-dancing on the leaves around them, making it difficult to see and hear.

  “What’re they doing?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Holden panted. “Watching us.”

  “Do you think it’s Roscoe?”

  “Could be.” He took a quick look around. “Or maybe some gawker who saw this place on the news.”

  The stare-off continued as the skies darkened and the breeze died away to nothing, pulling the air from the woods. Lightning strobed, turning the person’s faint shadow into a tall, skinny blotch of gray.

  “What should we do?”

  Holden sighed. “I say we go closer.”

  “Closer? That’s the exact opposite of what I was thinking.”

  “Are you lost?” Holden yelled out, watching the person watch them back. Seconds ticked by like minutes and Malin flinched with an abrupt clap of thunder. The rain came down harder, falling in straight lines to the ground and running into her eyes and mouth. “Stay here,” he said, prying her from his shirt.

  Malin shrieked and kicked.

  Holden spun around to face her, gun pointed in both hands. “What’s wrong?”

  “Snake!”

  He followed her finger to see the tail end of a shiny black snake disappear into the tall grass. Exhaling, he lowered the sidearm. “It’s just a rat snake. Relax.”

  “Ewe!” A wiggle wormed through her. “It crawled right over my shoe!”

  Holden snapped his eyes back to the person standing in the trees, jaw lowering. “Where’d they go?”

  Forcing her horrified gaze from the spot where the snake disappeared, she blinked rainwater from her lashes. “He’s gone,” she muttered, heart pounding against the palm resting on her chest.

  The treetops swayed with a sudden gust rushing through them but Malin couldn’t feel it on the ground. It was dead still, yet the branches above them bent like some invisible force was running a giant hand through their leaves.

  “Stay here!”

  “Holden,” she yelled over a crack of thunder, watching him sprint into the trees and become one with the shadows. A stick snapped off to the left and mama bear sprang forth in her mind. Squinting, Malin leaned closer for a better view through the rainfall. Lightning flashed, revealing trees and bushes. Holden walked out of the woods behind her. Spinning around, she shrieked in terror.

  Amber Rowe pointed a crooked finger at Malin. “You,” she said in a gravelly voice, shuffling closer in the same bloody clothing they found her wearing at this very spot.

  Malin stepped back without taking her eyes from the dead girl. She tried to speak and couldn’t find her voice, body reduced to encumbered movements that fueled her panic.

  Amber stumbled over an uneven spot in the ground, wet hair clinging to her waxy face and bony shoulders. “You...”

  “I’m…” Malin screamed and fell backwards when her heel collided with a rock. She landed on her ass with an oomph bursting from her lips. Looking up, adrenaline dumped into her veins. Amber loomed directly above, staring down at Malin through empty eyes, fingers curling into bloody claws.

  “I’m sorry!” The rain beat against Malin’s upturned face, distorting Amber’s expression into a fist of rage.

  The smell of rot wafted from the decay eating away at her skin like rust. “Free me,” she hissed, falling forward.

  Malin held up her hands and screamed, bracing for impact with the reanimated corpse.

  “Malin!”

  Holden’s voice cut through the storm and she dared to open her eyes. Hands still extended, she sat up in the dirt and yanked her head around. Amber was gone. Had never been here to begin with. It was official…Malin Waterhouse was losing her fucking mind.

  Holden knelt down beside her. “Are you hurt?”

  Rainwater ran into her eyes, blurring him into somebody else. She rubbed her ankle, wincing in pain. “I’m fine.”

  He took a quick look around, the rain hammering the trees and making his shirt stick to his torso. Lightning crashed and the thunder rolled, the lake’s surface a fuzzy mess. Turning back to her, his face folded into a hard frown. “Who was that girl?”

  ☚ ☛

  Holden stopped in front of Malin’s apartment building and left the Bronco running, piquing her concern. Staring straight ahead, he ran a hand down his face and even with the rain beating against the soft-top, the quiet between them was palpable, leaving a bad taste on Malin’s lips. She twisted in the wet seat to face him, nervously playing with her bracelets and searching for words.

  “You wanna come inside?”

  “I think I’ll head home and grab a shower and a nap. I have to work tonight.”

  “How can you take a nap after that just happened?”

  He watched the Bronco’s tiny wipers slide back and forth. “I just need a minute to think about everything.”

  “Let’s go talk to my mom. She’ll know what to do!”

  Exhaling, he pulled a hand through his wet hair, watching someone climb into a Jeep Wrangler with big knobby tires across the parking lot.

  Malin brushed wet hair from her face and stared at his stubborn profile, anger spreading to her eyes. “Holden, we have to stop it from happening
again! Those girls aren’t going to leave me alone until we do. She just made that very clear!”

  The wipers flicked back and forth. Back and forth.

  “And you’re positive that was Amber Rowe?”

  “Didn’t you see the blood?”

  “I told you, I couldn’t see much of anything through the rain, and then she was just…gone.”

  Setting a hand on his forearm, Malin softened her voice. “My mom will know what to do; let’s go there right now. She has all the bells and whistles and if anyone can…”

  “I can’t tonight!” He pulled his arm away and gained control of his voice. “I have to work but I will call you later. I promise.”

  She followed his eyes out the front windshield, trying to picture what he was seeing against the streaked glass. It wasn’t difficult to do. He was afraid and she didn’t blame him. They probably left this part out at the police academy. After all, where does one begin to explain living dead girls coming out of the woods? “I can make you something quick to eat if you’re hungry.”

  “Raincheck?”

  Running her fingers through her wet hair, Malin rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

  He shifted into gear. “Call me if you have any more visions or if anything else weird happens. I’ll have my phone on me all night.”

  She replied with a faint nod, confidence shrinking along with her posture. “Okay.”

  A forlorn sigh slipped past his lips. “It’s going to be awkward working with Roscoe tonight to say the least.”

  “He doesn’t have a clue about anything. And he’s going out with Brandy tonight, remember?”

  “I know but I’m sure I’ll run into him at some point. Knowing my luck, they’ll probably eat at the bar and I’ll have to wait on them.”

  Forcing a halfhearted smile, she considered leaning over and planting a goodbye kiss on his lips. She wanted to, more than anything, but his icy demeanor told her to get out of the vehicle and walk away. “Well, thanks for going with me,” she said, grabbing the door handle and hoping he would reconsider at the last second because she needed him right now. He was the only one who could vouch for her sanity and, at the moment, she needed all the reassurance she could get.

  “Sure thing.”

  She hitched in the seat, wondering why he didn’t call her doll. His eyebrows went up and she thought he would say something to ease the tension but he didn’t and it made her sick to her stomach. Opening the door, Malin got out and tried on a smile that didn’t fit. Raindrops fell on her head and lightning flickered, a chill making her shake. “Well then…”