The Stories: Five Years of Original Fiction on Tor.com

by Various

  It occurs to me that maybe Vanessa is showing me where the money is buried because she wants a cut of what we find. She’s probably been watching Aunt Z hide her money for years, but I bet she’s too honest to steal any of it. “Does the treasure map work on commission?”

  Her smile fades. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’re showing me where all of my aunt’s money is buried. I was just wondering how much you charge for a finder’s fee.”

  “I don’t want your money,” Vanessa says. “But since you’ve brought it up, I would ask a kindness of you.”

  “A kindness? What kind of kindness?”

  “A dirty kindness. A sweaty kindness. A kindness that may churn your gut and curl your toes, but since I’m about to show you where your college tuition lies, I’m sure you’ll be delighted to oblige me.”

  She has a point. She is doing me a big favor, but the way she’s asking for this kindness makes me wonder. “Is this an illegal kindness?”

  “Of course not. I would never ask something like that from you, Dylan. I’ll tell you what I’d like soon.” She levels those blue eyes at me and my spine dissolves. She’s out of your league, I remind myself again. Besides, I can’t be swooning over Vanessa when Teagan gets here.

  “Hey, I invited someone to help dig,” I confess.

  Vanessa laughs. “Let me guess…Teagan?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t think you knew each other.”

  “She doesn’t know me. And I don’t know her, really, just her name and the fact that she loathes your cousin nearly as much as I do. Is she bringing her own shovel?”

  “She said she would.”

  “Wonderful! Although you know what?” Vanessa peruses the selection of tools in the shed and points to a couple of shovels that are hanging from nails. “Take those, as well.”

  “Why?”

  “Perhaps your cousin and his friends will join us.”

  “I don’t want him joining us! He’ll just take whatever we find.”

  “Your mother is the rightful landowner of these woods now, Dylan. If he takes what belongs to her, he’s stealing.”

  “Well, yeah! From what I hear, stealing is one of his favorite hobbies.” I hate that my voice sounds panicky, but what started out as a simple treasure hunt is now complicated by some sweaty kindness and my idiot cousin.

  “I’ll take care of your cousin and you’ll take care of these unfortunate creatures here.” She points to the pile of animal carcasses left by the cats.

  I look at them uncertainly. “Take care of them how? They’re dead.”

  “Yes, and they need to be properly buried.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Of course. You’ll be digging many holes today. Would it be any trouble to bury these poor creatures?”

  “No, it’s…” My gut’s already starting to churn at the thought of scooping up all those lifeless little bodies.

  “When things aren’t properly buried, they don’t rest. They scratch at the walls and howl in the wind and keep the living up all night.” I feel the color drain out of my face. I think of the mice scrabbling inside the walls of my house, but what if…no, the idea of little rodent ghosts is ridiculous.

  I admit that I like the woods a lot better in the daylight. I’d like it even more if I wasn’t carrying a shovelful of dead stuff, which I’m trying to ignore. I focus instead on the bottles, which look pretty cool now that they’re sparkling in the sunshine. The birds sing, blissfully oblivious to our presence. Vanessa’s lips move as she silently counts out her footsteps, and I’m quiet, watching, listening. I hear the sound of car doors slam and Jaycie’s unmistakable laugh. “Maybe we should do this another day when JimBeau’s not around,” I suggest.

  “Eighteen, nineteen, twenty.” Vanessa counts loudly and stops walking. “I rather hope he shows up. There’s quite a bit of digging to be done, Dylan, and you might appreciate his help.”

  “He’ll just take whatever we dig up.”

  “I don’t believe he will,” Vanessa replies. “Right here. Dig.”

  Teagan appears with one of Auntie Z’s cats cradled in one arm and a shiny new shovel tucked under the other. The cat takes one look at me and Vanessa and freaks out.

  “Argh! Sugarbaby! What’s got into you?” Teagan drops the shovel and struggles to hold on to the flailing clump of white fur.

  “It’s probably still pissed off at me for interrupting its lunch yesterday,” I say.

  The cat howls and scrambles to escape, its back claws leaving red welts on Teagan’s bare arm. “Ow! Stupid cat!”

  “Exactly!” I agree.

  Teagan examines her arm briefly, then extends it toward Vanessa. “Hi! We haven’t met, I’m Teagan.”

  Vanessa offers a melancholy smile in return. “It’s lovely to meet you, Teagan. You’re just in time. Dylan was about to dig right here.”

  Teagan drops her hand and studies her for a few seconds, then shrugs and starts to dig.

  A few minutes later we unearth a plastic Cool Whip container. Teagan whistles. “So there is buried treasure! Who would have guessed? Maybe Auntie Z’s right about the banshee, too!”

  “A banshee?” Vanessa burst out laughing. “Oh, good lord, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Teagan, but you’ll not find a banshee in these woods.”

  I shake off the dirt, pop the top off, and pull out a wad of cash wrapped in a plastic sandwich bag. “Here—” I hand it to Teagan “—would you count that for me?”

  That glorious sound of money rustling fills the air as I drop the animals into the hole and fill it with dirt. “One thousand, five hundred dollars,” she announces.

  “That is just the beginning.” Vanessa turns and counts her steps again while Teagan and I watch, and a few minutes later, we’ve unearthed five thousand dollars in cash, plus my aunt Z’s diamond engagement ring.

  “Your uncle was desperate to find that ring before your mother arrived,” Vanessa tells us just before she counts her way to the next treasure spot, which yields ten thousand dollars and an emerald and diamond pendant.

  “Ooh, pretty!” Teagan holds the pendant in a small sunbeam that filters through the pine boughs and watches it shimmer.

  I’m now officially psyched, figuring at least two years of tuition are covered. “Holy crap, Vanessa, you weren’t kidding about buried treasure!”

  I get a withering look in return. “Dylan, do you kiss your mother with that filthy mouth of yours?”

  “What’d I say?” I look at Teagan and she shrugs.

  “The word ‘holy’ should never be used to describe excrement,” Vanessa admonishes me.

  “I thought you were above that.”

  “Sorry!” I totally forgot she went to private school and probably has all these religious rules.

  Vanessa begins counting off steps, and before I realize it, we’re less than five feet from the cairn. “This is where she hid the bulk of her valuables.”

  My burst of adrenaline fizzles out, but the audible hiss comes from Aunt Z’s other cat, who is crouched on top of the rock pile, glaring not at me, but at Vanessa.

  “Wow! What is up with Auntie Z’s cats today? I’ve never seen them so crazy!”

  I exchange a look with Vanessa.

  “I wonder why Aunt Z put it so close to the grave?”

  “Why not?” Vanessa counters.

  “I don’t know, it’s just, she’s got this entire woods to bury stuff in and she decides to put it right here? You know, it’s a federal crime to disturb a Native American burial site.”

  “I promise you won’t be disturbing a Native American burial site,” Vanessa says. “Dig. I will be back shortly.”

  I watch her head toward JimBeau’s house, and for a moment, I want to ask her where she’s going, but I admit, I’m more curious to see just how much the bulk of Auntie Z’s valuables adds up to. This one is a little deeper, and there’s a blister on my palm by the time we’re finished. It’s worth it. I find a thirty-two-ounce plastic ricotta chee
se container with two wads of hundred dollar bills wrapped in a Wonder Bread bag.

  “Ohmigod!” Teagan squees, “there’s too much to even count!”

  I feel very giddy at the moment, holding two fistfuls of hundred dollar bills. I peel two off and hand them to Teagan. “Thanks for helping me today.”

  “Really?” Teagan jumps up and down and throws her arms around my neck.

  I hadn’t even noticed that Vanessa had returned. I’m so stoked about this unexpected windfall that I peel two more hundreds off and offer them to Vanessa, who shakes her head.

  “I’ve told you, I don’t want your money. Besides, you are about to have company.”

  “What?” I have just enough time to shove the money back into the container and stuff it in the sack before JimBeau and his posse come into view.

  “Hey, cuz,” JimBeau drawls, “this pretty lady told us we should come help you dig, but it looks like you’ve already done all the work.”

  “What?” I spin toward Vanessa. I know she was getting annoyed with me but why would she set me up like this? I’m about to demand an explanation, but she is focused on JimBeau, a dangerous look heating up her eyes.

  Teagan is holding the sack full of cash, but she’s not quick enough to keep it from JimBeau.

  “Hey!” she protests when he rips it from her hands. She launches herself at him, but he holds the bag up out of her reach, laughing like a lunatic.

  “You bastard! Give it back!” Teagan lands a few punches against his belly that seem to amuse him before he shoves her to the ground, hard. There is a moment of stunned silence that’s shattered by an unholy howl and a sickening rip that echoes through the trees. I freeze as the close, dizzy rush of something huge falls toward me. Teagan screams when two thousand pounds of pine tree crash down several feet away from us, roots raining dirt.

  I pull Teagan close to me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes!” She’s trembling all over. I look around. JimBeau and his friends look shaken but fine.

  “Where’s Vanessa?”

  I can’t see her. Her bright hair normally stands out among the green and brown of the woods, but she’s nowhere in sight. “Vanessa?” I shout. I let go of Teagan and run off to check under the tree, sack of money forgotten. “Vanessa!”

  The hair-raising moan surrounds us again, and Teagan bolts to my side. “What the hell is that?” I ask.

  “I’m out of here!” one of JimBeau’s friends mutters, but the ripping of tree roots glues us where we stand and within seconds, the forest floor reverberates with the crash of another fallen tree.

  JimBeau whimpers. I would like to enjoy the fact that my cousin sounds like a frightened puppy, but when I see why he’s whimpering, I have this life-altering moment. On one side of this moment, I am a relatively sane person rooted in reality. On the other side, I’m either insane or mythical creatures exist, because there is a gray shrouded mist hovering in front of JimBeau. I blink, but it’s still there.

  “Banshee!” Teagan whispers and grabs my hand.

  I hear Vanessa laugh, but I still can’t see her. “I’ve told you, Teagan, there are no banshees in these woods.” The gray mist solidifies and shakes its hood off to reveal Vanessa’s long red hair. “And there is no Native American buried here either, is there, James Beauregard Slater the Fifth?”

  My cousin steps back, trips over an exposed pine root, and lands on his butt.

  “Is there?” Vanessa advances on him as he crabwalks backward.

  “I don’t know! I just heard my grandfather tell my father there was a girl.”

  “What did he say about this girl?”

  “He said it was an accident!” JimBeau babbles. “One of the Irish girls had an accident and someone buried her out here, but nobody was supposed to know!”

  “It was no accident! Your great-great-grandfather grabbed me the way you grab that poor Jaycie, and I fought him…I kicked and scratched and bit him so hard, he bled. So he smothered me and buried me here on this unhallowed land. Was it your father or your grandfather who spun the tale about a Native American burial site? They had the whole town believing so nobody ever asked questions about the grave in the woods.”

  JimBeau shrinks back against a tree stump and hugs his knees to his chest.

  “What happens, Dylan, when the dead aren’t buried properly?” Vanessa asks.

  I wrack my brain for the right answer, because I have a bad feeling the wrong answer will send more trees smashing down around us. Or on top of us. She told me this in the shed. I just have to get it right. “They scratch at the walls,” I whisper. “They howl in the wind and keep the living up all night.”

  “That’s right.” Vanessa leans down until her face is inches from JimBeau’s. “I have been bound to these woods ever since your filthy namesake buried me here, and I shan’t be released until my mortal remains are buried on consecrated ground.” She wheels toward JimBeau’s friends. “Get him up, dust him off, and start moving the rocks. And when you’ve finished that, choose a shovel. Because you will all do me the kindness of digging my moldy bones up out of the muck or I swear, I’ll drop every last tree in these woods.”

  I am the first one to move, to grab a rock and heave it off to the side. My belly is in knots wondering what’s left of Vanessa, lying underneath all these rocks, all this dirt. It makes me even sicker to think that it was my relative who put her here. JimBeau looks too terrified not to join me, and his friends seem resigned to follow him. Teagan starts to help, but Vanessa shakes her head and sends her off on an errand. Ten minutes later, Teagan returns with a pair of leather work gloves for me. JimBeau and his friends’ hands are filthy and bleeding by the time the rocks are cleared, but one stern look from Vanessa sends them scurrying for the shovels. I hold my breath every time we ram our shovels into the dirt, waiting for the sound of metal scraping bone. I will not puke. I will not puke.

  We haven’t dug long before Vanessa calls me over. I wipe the sweat and grunge off my forehead and look up to find I can see right through her.

  Her voice is softer now, fading. “Will you see to it that I’m buried at the Holy Faith Cemetery after a proper Requiem Mass?”

  I nod. I have a feeling it’s only a matter of time before Vanessa is released from the woods and she disappears forever. Teagan brought bottles of water to us a while ago, but my throat still feels tight.

  “I know I don’t know you well, but…” I’m talking to a dead girl, and as much as that freaks me out, there’s only one thing I can think of to say. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Thank you, Dylan.” She leans in to kiss my cheek, and her touch feels like the feather of an angel.

  Copyright (C) 2012 by Gina Rosati

  Art copyright (C) 2012 by Eric Fortune

  Auracle

  by Gina Rosati

  Chapter 6

  My father is on his recliner, collecting dust. The bottle is down about six inches, which means that he’s still fairly sober by my standards, but I know better than to tickle the dragon. I slip past him, unnoticed, grab a can of soda from the fridge and lock myself in my bedroom. It’s three-thirty. I’m pretty sure the note said she’d meet him at four o’clock.

  I didn’t tell Rei I wouldn’t go. There were no promises requested and no promises offered. He just didn’t think it was a good idea. Okay, so maybe he said it was a bad idea. But still…

  I change into a pair of gym shorts and my favorite black t-shirt, the one with the puddle bunny on it, and I pull out the hair tie that holds my ponytail. My door is locked, and I push the desk chair up under the knob. My alarm clock is set just loud enough to remind me that I need to return before my mom gets home from her business trip, but not so loud it would draw my father’s attention. The entire conversation with Rei has sucked away the joy that usually accompanies me on my trips. I punch at my pillow to get it just right, and shimmy around until I’m comfortable. There’s a water stain on my ceiling that’s shaped like a turtle. I stare at it for a while to relax.r />
  Within about ten minutes, the tingle has spread from my bare toes up through my legs and into my back. As soon as I hear a slight buzzing sound, I know I’m ready. I feel myself detaching, releasing, lifting, and I’m free, floating over my body. If anyone ever walked in on me, it looks like I’m peacefully sleeping. Before I leave, I check around my house - the stove is off, and my father is in his usual catatonic state. Rei’s just got me paranoid, I remind myself. Everything will be fine. It’s time to see what Taylor’s up to.

  Scientists claim that the fastest thing in the universe is light, which travels at about 186,282 miles per second. I’ve never clocked myself, but I know I’m faster. All I really have to do is think of a place and I’m there. The waterfalls are still rushing wild with spring run-off, so loud it sounds like a supersonic jet is flying ten feet over my head. Nobody’s here except the trees and the bushes, which have stood patiently, year after year, glowing in their own soft blue aura.

  I backtrack down both trails until I find Taylor parading down the path in strappy gold sandals with sparkly faux gemstones. Well, at least she’s smart enough to leave her high heels at home. In order to avoid the last dregs of mud from ruining her shoes, she walks along the edge of the trail, through long grass intermingled with patches of shiny green leaves. Part of me would like to materialize and tell her to get the hell out of the poison ivy, but it’s too late for that now.

  I’ve always pictured Taylor’s color to be a powerful, confident red, like a chili pepper, but instead, she is surrounded by a murky hotdog pink. She does look very pretty, though. She’s wearing a full skirt in a kaleidoscope of colors that catches the breeze and flutters just below her knees as she walks, and a gauzy black blouse fastened by a dozen silver buttons up the front. Her fingernails have to be fake, they’re so long, and they’re painted with shiny gold polish.

  Peeking out from beneath those golden fingernails, I spy Seth’s phone.

  As soon as she steps onto the ledge, it’s apparent she’s not here on a sightseeing tour. She ignores the falls, concentrating on where she should sit for maximum exposure. She considers both paths that merge onto the ledge, one from the right and one from the left, and chooses dead center to sit down, a spot that’s easily facing both paths. Alternating between several provocative poses, she settles for one where her legs are tucked to the side and she’s leaning back on one hand, her hair draped over her shoulder. She tucks the phone under her skirt, out of sight, then slips her sandals off and tosses them to the side, making sure her golden toenails are peeking out from under the skirt.