Evil Stalks the Night

by Kathryn Meyer Griffith

  The air in the room seemed to vibrate and he heard the woods calling him. He’d accepted what was to be so why was he procrastinating? It was time.

  He’d forfeit his life in exchange for theirs. Doubt gnawed at him and then the fear ate him whole. What if what he did made no difference? What if he was wrong and it chose not to play fair? It wouldn’t be the first time, echoed in his head.

  What if they all had to die?

  Were Sarah and Jeremy out there trapped and suffering or already dead? The thought stunned him and anger flooded in. He threw the brick out the open door, dashed outside and ran for the place where his old home used to stand. He hadn’t been there in so many years he was afraid he’d forgotten the way, but even in the dark his feet seemed to know where to go. Some things you never forget.

  For the first time in many lives, he wasn’t a coward. For the first time in his life, he was running towards trouble and not away from it. Sarah and Jeremy mattered; nothing else in the whole damn world did but them. He had to save them!

  If they died, he’d have no reason for living anyway. A grim smile spread across his face as he ran down the roads to where he’d once lived. He remembered a few short cuts through yards and a field. He ran faster. His heart a lump of stone at the terrifying images forming in his mind.

  This time he wasn’t going to be left alone. Until that moment he’d never seen how much Sarah’s presence, no matter how far away, had meant to him. He’d accepted the other deaths as they’d come, but now the truth was revealed…if Sarah died again, so did he.

  As he jumped a spiked fence and scurried around some houses which shone with lights, he tried to keep from remembering. Yet the memories had finally escaped and he couldn’t outrun or hide from them any longer.

  He saw the past. His family in that rambling house as they’d once been. Poor but happy. Love filling their everyday lives even with the money problems. His mother, his father, his siblings. He saw them all.

  He heard Charlie crying in the field’s gully when he’d been a child. Leslie talking about what she dreamed of being when she grew up, and he saw his mother’s bright eyes and tender smile again. His father’s laughter haunted him as he ran, panting harder as he fought the tears of bitter truth. So many had died because of him and another crime was letting Sarah carry the guilt all these years without uttering a word. Putting Jeremy in danger.

  Now they might both be dead. He gulped and smothered a cry. He crawled up a steep hill on his hands and knees, grabbing at trees along the way.

  The houses were behind him and he was going into the woods. He easily jumped the same gullies that had been bottomless when he’d been a small child. There was no light anywhere and he had to almost feel his way through the tightly packed trees, but he didn’t slow down.

  He thought he heard Jeremy crying off in the distance in fear and pain, and it drove him to push himself harder. Run faster. He fell into a creek and clawed his way out of the fetid water to scramble up the muddy bank and keep going.

  Don’t stop. Don’t stop, his heart warned him.

  Jeremy’s whimpering grew louder and Jim’s heart cried.

  A branch flew out of nowhere and slashed him across the face. There was no pain and when he wiped his face with the back of his hand there was no blood. He kept on running. When he fell, he dragged himself up again as the forest laughed silently.

  He ran towards the sounds.

  The woods watched with evil eyes, and waited.

  * * * *

  “Mom. Mom. Mom,” Jeremy kept saying the words over and over in the dark, until they melted into a hoarse whimper too faint to hear. He lay crumpled and broken in the dirty water at the bottom of a deep hole. The water wasn’t deep, it came up to his waist, so he could sit in it. He thought when he’d first fallen in that it was an old well, but wasn’t sure. He only knew he hurt. He’d stopped crying hours ago but still felt the puffiness and fever that the tears had caused. He was so scared and knew if he made too much noise the thing would hear and come for him. He wasn’t sure if it was out there looking or even if it had followed him. He couldn’t take the chance it was.

  He tried not to cry anymore but his body shook, sending ripples through the water. Again he fought to crawl up out of the water, but his fingers were numb from clinging to the stony sides and he’d already pulled out every weed or protruding rock he could have hung on to. There was nothing but slime and his fingers slid down the sides and his body fell back into the mud and water.

  So fatigued from the fight, he moved in and out of consciousness, unaware at times of where he was or what he’d actually seen in the last hours. He welcomed those blank moments. Anything, so he wouldn’t have to remember what the thing had done to his father. He whimpered, alarmed at the loud noise it made.

  His eyes flew up to the darker circle of the opening above him. He could see pin pricks of stars and he inhaled the fresh night air. There was no moon. If he breathed too deeply he could smell the stale water and the slime close by and he could smell his father’s blood, splattered across his body.

  No! He must be still and quiet. Quivering with fright, he willed himself not to continue sniveling like a big baby. If he cried, he gave himself away, and the monster would tear him to pieces like it’d done to his father. Mustn’t let that happen. If he could only hold out long enough, remain sane and patient, his mother or Ben would come and save him.

  He covered his ears with wet hands. He could still hear his father’s screams. Jeremy couldn’t help himself and began to cry. He’d tried to help his father, but it hadn’t worked. He was too little and the thing was too big and strong. It had huge teeth and sharp claws, and he’d been tossed aside like a rag doll when his father had fired his gun.

  He’d run away to hide from the monster when his father’s screams had stopped. His knew his father was dead. Sobbing in terror, he’d obeyed his father’s last words and ran and hid. He’d run faster than he’d ever run before and all the while he’d sensed the thing was coming behind him after it had finished with his father. Jeremy had heard its wicked laughter and felt its foul breath breathing down his neck in the night.

  He’d run and fallen into this hole. Hurt himself bad, too. There was blood in the water around him. He could smell it.

  Now, frustrated and scared out of his mind, he moaned in pain at the bottom of it, praying he was hidden well enough so the monster couldn’t find and kill him, too. If it found him, he didn’t have a chance.

  His father had a gun and the bullets hadn’t even slowed the thing down.

  Ben would find him! Someone, his mother, or Jim, would come and save him before the thing found him. They had to.

  Jeremy didn’t want to dwell on his father’s death, but no matter how hard he tried, the grief wouldn’t release him. He wanted to escape this horrible hole and be in his mother’s arms. What would happen if no one found him down here? He couldn’t shout or cry because he didn’t want to attract the thing that killed his father. If he didn’t make some kind of noise, though, how would they know where he was?

  Horrified, he looked around his narrow dark prison and knew he could die there. How long would it take if no one found him? Moaning low into his arms, he tried to move his left leg again. The pain almost made him scream. It hurt so bad! Maybe it was sprained or broken or something. His shoulder hurt, too, but not half as bad as his leg.

  Time dragged and he leaned against the bumpy sides of the pit and listened to the night forest. If he could hold on until daylight, maybe then the monster might be gone. He could yell for help all he wanted then and someone would hear him. Come save him. If there was anyone out there even looking.

  Did they know he was missing yet? How could they? He was supposed to be with his father. Safe with his father who was now dead. He buried his scraped and dirty face in his arms and whimpered again. He was never going
to get out. He was going to die, all alone in this stinking hole, and it’d be days, months, or years before they found his body. By then, the thing would have found and eaten him.

  Overwhelmed with terror and exhaustion, he passed out.

  When he awoke, it was to the sound of someone calling his name from up above. His heart jumped with joy until he saw who it was. Charlie! His body refused to move. Was that monster with Charlie? Had Charlie found him only to alert it to where he was hiding?

  “Jeremy, are you down there?” The ghostly wail found him cringing in the bottom of the hole.

  If he was really quiet, didn’t move, the spook might go away and leave him alone, Jeremy thought. He didn’t answer and instead, curled up into a tighter ball to hide.

  Go away, Charlie! Don’t see me!

  “Jeremy, I know you’re down there. I can see you!” Charlie chuckled up above, peering into the dark pit. “Come on, answer me. I won’t give you away, I promise. I’ve come to help. Don’t you want to get out of there before it finds you?” The ghost laughed and Jeremy shivered because he knew who the ghost was speaking of. “I can help you.” There was a pause and the phantom spoke coaxingly, “I helped your Uncle Jim.”

  Uncle Jim! What did Charlie mean about helping Uncle Jim?

  “You’ve got to trust me. I can’t help you if you don’t.”

  Jeremy couldn’t stop himself from saying something then. “I’m here,” he croaked, and stared hard up at the dead boy. “How did you help Uncle Jim?”

  “I told him you needed him. Right away. He’s looking for you now,” the ghost bragged.

  Jeremy smiled in the dark. He was going to be saved! “You mean you did it for me?” He was flabbergasted. Why would Charlie help him?

  “Why not? I told you I liked you. I don’t want nothing bad happening to you because you’re her son.” The voice droned on as smooth as silk and Jeremy felt uneasy because the ghost was being too nice. He smelled a rat somewhere. For some reason he didn’t think he could trust Charlie but couldn’t put his finger on why.

  “Thank you, Charlie,” Jeremy said. “When is he coming to get me out of here?” He licked his dry lips nervously. He didn’t believe he had much time. He knew he was grasping at straws by depending on Charlie, but there didn’t seem to be anyone else around to depend on.

  “Where’s Uncle Jim now?” Jeremy recalled vaguely his uncle had had a car accident and was coming home when his father had taken him away.

  “He’s coming, I saw him. He’ll be here any minute.” The giggles started. “If I don’t go get him to show him where you are, he might not find you. I’ll lead him here.”

  Alarm bells went off in Jeremy’s head. Was this one of Charlie’s tricks? Jeremy’s heart sank as deep as the hole he was in. He wanted to cry, plead with the ghost to really help him, be true to his promises, but the inner voice inside warned him it wouldn’t do any good. If Charlie was playing a game with him, he’d better learn how to play along real fast or he might die and rot away like an old sponge in this filthy water. He felt like one already, all soaked and crusted with dirt.

  He was deathly afraid of spiders, bugs and snakes. He’d already killed one hairy spider he’d found crawling on him. He’d closed his eyes and squashed its soft fuzzy body under his flattened palm with a grunt of disgust.

  Ech! He couldn’t stand it when they crawled on him. Spiders could bite, too. He felt sick. Panic was spreading so fast, he had to fight not to give in to it and start yelling like a frightened little girl at the top of his lungs. Get me out of here! Get me out!

  “You’re gonna bring him here, aren’t you?” Jeremy breathed in and held it, fearful he’d start blubbering any second. Charlie would laugh at him, he knew it.

  “Maybe.”

  “Charlie, please? You can’t leave me down here!”

  Charlie was quiet for a long time and Jeremy thought he’d left him there. He tried to pull himself up a little and his eyes searched the black circle over his head.

  “Hush!” A hiss from above. “Don’t move! I’ll be back.” There was a swoosh of cold air around him and Jeremy sensed the ghost had left. His heart was racing.

  Had it come back? What was happening?

  Charlie had gone to fetch Uncle Jim! “Oh, please,” Jeremy prayed as he waited for something to happen. “Please, Charlie, come back and bring my uncle.”

  Long minutes ticked by and Jeremy wanted to give up. He was so tired he didn’t care anymore. He was going to die. He couldn’t trust Charlie. What a fool he’d been to think he could. Charlie belonged to the thing in the woods and was his enemy, not his friend. At this very moment Charlie was probably bringing that evil thing with the teeth and burning eyes to get him!

  Where had Charlie been when their front door had been busted? Where had he been when Jenny and his father had to die? Those thoughts badgered Jeremy until he thought he would simply die from fear of not knowing.

  Time, he didn’t know how long, ebbed away.

  “Jeremy?” Charlie was back. “You still down there?”

  “Of course I am! Where else would I go? I’m trapped down here,” Jeremy snapped, a little miffed at the ghost’s denseness. Were all spirits that stupid? “Where have you been? Are you going to help me or not? I don’t feel so good.”

  “I had to leave because it’s very close now. I was afraid it would see me here talking to you. I’d be punished for sure. Not to mention, it would have found you.” The voice was terrified. Charlie’s fear was catching and Jeremy found himself biting his lips so he wouldn’t faint from it.

  “It’s here?” Jeremy cried.

  “No, not now. But it was close. Too close. I’m not supposed to be helping any of you and if it finds out it’ll hurt me bad. But I’m going to help you get out anyway because I promised.” The way he said it gave Jeremy hope he meant it.

  How could you hurt a dead person? Jeremy wondered.

  Jeremy realized Charlie was very afraid of it, too. That only increased Jeremy’s terror.

  “What is that thing?”

  “It’s evil and it’s bad and it’s killed nearly everybody I’ve ever loved,” Charlie replied softly. “You can’t hurt it or run away from it. But you can try. I hate it! I’m going to get back at it, too, by helping you to get away. I’ll fix it.” The ghost chuckled to himself this time. “It wants you and her so bad and I’m going to help you fool it. You’ll see.”

  “It killed my father.” Jeremy sniffled. He hated it too. “Why does it want to hurt us? What have we ever done to it?”

  “Not you. It was something Jim did to it a long, long time ago, I think, and it still hates him. It wants vengeance on him and everyone he cares about. It’s become a game to it.”

  “Wasn’t my friend and my dad enough?”

  “When it hates it hates forever. I have to go now.”

  “Wait! What about me?” Was Charlie going to leave him anyway?

  “I have to go. I’ll bring Jimmy here. I have to hurry. We don’t have much time!” Charlie spat and was gone again.

  Down in the wet hole, hopeless, Jeremy began to sob and this time he didn’t care who or what heard him. He wasn’t going to get out, he knew it. Charlie wouldn’t come back and Jim wouldn’t find him. He’d die there.

  A long time passed and Jeremy had about given up. He was hungry, he hurt and he was having trouble staying awake.

  He heard someone up above him calling his name. Uncle Jim!

  * * * *

  “Jeremy, are you all right? Are you down there?” His uncle shouted, clutching the sides of the well, searching the darkness below. He’d been astounded when Charlie had led him here, to where he said Jeremy was hurt and trapped in an old well.

  Jim had thrashed through the woods like a madman following the ghost to get to Jeremy, so afraid he�
�d be too late and find the boy dead.

  He knew there wasn’t much time but didn’t know why he thought that. He could sense the evil in the forest around him, glowering and gloating and waiting. Perhaps it was stalking him at that very moment. He’d been as leery and apprehensive of Charlie the second time he’d appeared as he’d been the first, except he wasn’t afraid of him anymore.

  “Uncle Jim! Yes, I’m down here. I’m okay, I think. I’m so glad you’re here! You found me!” Jeremy shouted back up the well.

  “Thank God! How did you get in there?” Jim helplessly looked around for something to get Jeremy out of the hole with. He could see nothing he could use. He needed rope.

  “I was with my father. He was taking me home with him for a visit. Mom thought I would be safer there. Oh, Jim it killed my father!” Jeremy’s voice gave out and Jim couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Oh, no.

  “It killed your father?” Jonathan was dead?

  “Yes. Then I ran away from it and fell down this hole.” The boy’s voice trembled. “I was so afraid it would get me like it did him. I couldn’t help him.”

  Jim felt the guilt knife him. He’d never liked Jonathan, it was true, but it was no reason to wish the man dead, he had been Jeremy’s father. Poor kid. What he’d gone through.

  “Jeremy,” Jim said, “don’t think about it now. Let’s get you out of there. Hold on a second, I have to find something to pull you out with.”

  Jeremy, relieved to put everything into his uncle’s hands, seemed to deflate, collapsing into a cold lump huddled in a black corner. Below ground as he was, Jeremy couldn’t see the fog starting to roll in high above the ground, but Jim did. He sensed it before he saw it. Billows of gray and black wispy smoke seeping between and around the trees; surrounding him and the well.

  Jim walked around the top of the hole, urgently knocking aside leaves and branches, his eyes searching in the darkness. There must be a rope somewhere, to go with the bucket he’d discovered. The fog was creeping in thicker each moment and he knew time was about up. He had to get Jeremy out of there now.