by Heidi Lang
He went to kick a pile of sticks, then froze.
They weren’t sticks. They had too many joints, and they were the wrong color—dark and shiny.
“Mom?” Caden’s voice trembled, but he couldn’t help it. “Mom!”
“Coming!” He heard the sounds of crunching and branches snapping, and then his mom was there, her hair hanging in sweaty clumps, her face as scratched and dirty as his. “What? What is it?”
Wordlessly he gestured at the sticks in front of him. She stared, confusion pulling her eyebrows together, before realization shot them up. “It must have shed its exoskeleton,” she breathed. She found a stick—a real one—and nudged the exoskeleton, flipping it easily. It crinkled as it moved, a sound like someone digging inside a potato chip bag for the very last crumbs.
“It’s huge,” Caden said. “Bigger than the one Gary killed.”
“They’re growing.” She dropped the stick. “And look. Do you see that mound there?”
Caden looked past the bushes and the bug skin and—and he saw it. A large hole, the opening wide enough for a person to climb into. “Did it come from there?” He couldn’t look away from that darkness.
“I would imagine so.”
“Should we… should we go look?”
“Nope.”
Caden sagged in relief. This nightmare was almost over. Then he thought of another nightmare. “If they were going after goats before, and now they’re getting bigger… what will they want to eat next?”
“I’m pretty sure we both know the answer to that,” she said grimly. “I’ll call Gary when we’re home, give him a warning. We’d better hurry back.”
Caden gave the exoskeleton one last look. He definitely wanted a different line of work.
But now that he knew these things existed, could he really pretend they didn’t? Even if he left Whispering Pines behind, would he honestly be able to live a different kind of life?
As they rushed back through the woods, Caden found it impossible to imagine a version of himself that was any different from the version here. It wasn’t this town, or his mom, or even the family business that had trapped him in a box.
It was himself.
By the time they stepped out of the woods and onto their street, Caden was ready to be done with this whole night. He could hear his mom’s footsteps as she followed him up the driveway. He focused on his own feet and thought of the hot shower he would take. The image of that exoskeleton flickered through his mind. A hot shower and a whole bucket of soap, he amended. Maybe two hot showers, and—
And someone was standing in their doorway.
Caden froze. In an instant, he knew exactly who it was. Where his brother felt like nothing, this person felt like the deep, cold void of space. Caden’s inner sense brushed against that presence and recoiled instinctively. “Patrick,” he gasped.
Patrick Smith, senior consultant to Green On!, turned and smiled, his teeth perfect and gleaming in the setting light of the sun. “Ah, young Mr. Price.” He looked past Caden. “And Mrs. Price. You look… well.”
Caden knew they looked like they’d just spent the past few hours bushwhacking through the forest.
“What are you doing?” his mom demanded, moving to stand in front of Caden as if she might shield him with her body. “You are not welcome here.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I was just leaving. Mr. Price, I’ve kept a spot open for you in my internship. Should you decide to reconsider your position, it will be waiting for you. I’m sure your friends would welcome you back.”
Caden didn’t say a word, his lips pressed together so tightly his whole face ached.
“Leave,” his mom said.
Patrick gave her a nod, then stepped around them and walked down the driveway, his dark suit blending into the growing shadows. As soon as he was gone, Caden’s mom threw open the door and rushed inside. “Aiden? Aiden!”
“I’m right here, Mom.” Aiden was leaning against the kitchen counter looking perfectly relaxed. “Everything is okay.”
“But, Green On!, that man—”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Aiden repeated. “I talked to him.” Where Patrick’s smile had been large and gleaming, Aiden’s now was small and secretive. “We came to an understanding.” He glanced at Caden, then away again, his smile wavering.
And Caden was filled with a deep, heavy sense of dread. It reminded him of the prophetic dreams he sometimes had, his nights filled with glimpses of upcoming possibilities. He could feel the same sense of a future pressing against him now. A terrible future. One that his brother had just set in motion. And he knew, somehow, that it revolved around him.
And that he wouldn’t be able to stop it.
11. RAE
Rae hit the bottom of the hole hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. Wheezing, she put her arms up over her face and curled protectively onto her side as dirt and rocks cascaded over her in a wave.
It was done in seconds, everything going still as the ground settled. Rae felt the press of dirt above her, around her, the moist earthy scent filling her nostrils. She tried to sit up and found she couldn’t.
Panic clawed at her chest like a living creature. Trapped. She was trapped! She flailed in the dark, scrabbling at the dirt, desperate, but it was like shoveling dry sand at the beach, more falling to replace any she managed to move away.
She was buried alive. She was going to die here, cocooned in the ground, slowly suffocating in darkness.
Rae needed to calm down. She knew it, but her mind had no control over her body anymore. She sobbed and thrashed, and one of her wildly swinging hands brushed against something that wasn’t dirt. Rae dug toward it immediately, reaching for it.
Her fingers sank into it a little before stopping, like pushing through thick wet carpet to the hardwood floor beneath.
She froze. She didn’t want to know what she was touching, didn’t want to realize the truth of it, but she could smell it now, something worse than the dirt that surrounded her. The stench of garbage left outside on a hot summer’s day, the sickly sweet scent of decay. And for one heart-stopping moment she was back in the basement of a creepy forest cabin, tangled up in a murdered boy’s rib cage, wet pieces of him clinging to her skin, soaking into her clothes.
It was a sensation she would never forget, one that still woke her up sweating in the night, her blankets snarled around her.
Rae couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She was stuck in that purgatory of stink and dark and dirt, and—
Hands grabbed under her arms—strong, warm, living hands—and yanked her up.
Rae’s head burst free from the mound of loose dirt, and she drew in a large, dusty breath, then hacked and coughed until her eyes ran.
“It’s okay,” Vivienne murmured, patting her on the back. “It’s all okay.”
Rae stayed like that for long minutes, coughing and panting until she could breathe normally again, only a slight hitch, a tiny wheeze. “I thought,” she gasped, “that I would die, buried alive like, like…” She tried to think of something appropriate. “Like a vampire.”
Vivienne’s hand froze on her back, limp and heavy, before she withdrew it. “Technically vampires aren’t alive.”
“Okay, then, like…” Rae couldn’t think of anything. “Like a worm?”
Vivienne laughed, the sound a little too loud. “Not sure that works either. But luckily for you, it looks like you’ll live to see another day. No thanks to Nate, though.”
“Hey, someone had to stay up here,” Nate called down. “Otherwise how would you get out?”
“Good point,” Vivienne said. “Um, Rae-Rae?” she asked, her voice abruptly changing, growing small and nervous. “What’s that?”
Rae’s panic had ebbed enough for her to look around. She was in some kind of air pocket about six feet below the ground, still buried up to her waist. The sun’s rays filtered dimly through the trees overhead, outlining Nate’s concerned face up top, Vivienne standing next
to her, and…
And the half-covered body of a dead goat.
Rae lurched backward and kicked until her legs were free of the dirt, her back pressed against the soil wall behind her. She wiped her hand against her jeans, smearing the dirt in and not caring.
Most of the body was still buried, only the head, shoulders, and one leg exposed, the flesh sagging off it, the mouth hanging open. Rae could see the shriveled black tongue, and it made her want to throw up. Why would a dead goat be buried out here?
“What?” Nate asked, leaning over the edge, a trickle of dirt sliding around him. “Is that… is that a dead goat?”
“I guess that was what we came here for,” Vivienne said, sounding strangely calm. “A corpse, right?”
“No,” Nate said. “No way. We were looking for skeletons. For people who had decayed long ago. Not…” He turned away, and Rae could hear him retching above them. She didn’t blame him.
She breathed as shallowly as she could. But she had never run from the truth before, even if it was ugly, and she wasn’t about to start now. So she forced herself to look around. On three sides of her there was nothing but loose dirt—and the goat, of course. But behind her was a dark hole extending away into blackness, the walls glinting with yellowed shards of old bone and the splintered edges of rotting wooden coffins. A tunnel, half collapsed.
Vivienne noticed it too, and gasped. “So they did leave the bodies.”
“Some of them, at any rate.” Rae shivered, then noticed something else. Another large shape barely visible in the darkness. She inched closer.
“Careful, Rae-Rae. I don’t think this tunnel is very stable.”
“I’m not going in. But, look. Do you see it?” Rae pulled out her cell phone and used its glow to see.
It was the body of another goat, patches of bone glistening beneath the rotted skin. Behind it there were other lumps. Other dead animals. Rae thought she could see a dog and a couple of cats, although she tried hard not to look. It was too heartbreaking.
“Oh my…” Vivienne backed away.
“I think we’ve figured out where all those missing animals are.”
“But why? How?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t think I want to stay down here and find out, either,” Rae said grimly.
She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and whipped around. There was something shifting on the first goat—a long, wriggling, pale-pink something with way too many legs, climbing through the corpse’s matted fur. And it wasn’t alone.
More began popping up all around the body, a half dozen at least, each of them the size and shape of a hot dog. They climbed around the exposed skin, avoiding the beams of sunlight, scuttling back into the dark.
Rae realized they weren’t actually pink, either. They were a milky yellowish-white. The pink color came from the blood staining their bodies. Because they were eating the goat, tearing off strips of rotting flesh and then scurrying back into the soil with them.
Rae’s stomach roiled, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
Vivienne gave herself a little shake, almost like a dog coming out of the river, and pulled off her ever-present backpack. She reached inside, tugging out a large plastic bottle, like the kind a person would bring on a hiking trip. She emptied the water, then used her own shirt to dry the inside of it. “It’s not perfect, but…” She shrugged.
“But what?” Rae asked.
“For us to research.” Vivienne darted forward, sliding her bottle over one of the bugs and then snapping the lid on, trapping the bug and several handfuls of soil inside.
“Research?” Rae said. “Like, for our internship project?”
“Exactly.”
“What about the bodies?”
“I think this”—Vivienne shook her water bottle—“will be a bigger mystery. I’ve never seen a bug like this before. And we don’t know what’s killing these animals. So…”
“You think bugs did this?” Rae shook her head. “There’s no way.”
“Well, how did it die?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Should we dig it out and look at it?”
“Ugh, no!” Rae wrinkled her nose. Then she remembered her earlier determination not to hide from the truth. “Maybe,” she amended. “If you think it’s important.”
“I think we should go,” Nate called from above them. “Your mom is going to be here in…” He paused, then said, “Seven minutes.”
Rae made herself look at the goat again and sighed. The facts were always important. “Let’s do it.”
Vivienne rummaged around in her backpack again and produced a small folded shovel. She unfolded it with a flourish. “Ta-da!”
“Nice.”
“Yeah. Never thought I’d be using it to unbury a goat.” Vivienne began scooping dirt and rocks away, slowly uncovering more of the body. It didn’t take long; the soil was all pretty loose from the tunnel’s collapse. “Hmm.”
“What?” Rae moved closer, peering around Vivienne. The smell hit her, blood and worse. The guts of the animal had been exposed, a giant hole gaping in its stomach, like something had ripped it out. “What do you think did that?”
Vivienne didn’t answer, her eyes wide and dark as she stared at the wound.
“Vivi?”
“I think… I think I need to get out of here,” Vivienne whispered, backing away from the goat. Her face had gone strangely white, her nostrils flaring.
“Me too.” Rae stared up at the edges of the hole above them. “Should I give you a boost, or—”
“I have a rope.”
“You seem to have everything in there.”
“Good thing, right?” Vivienne flashed a weak grin, then shifted so her body blocked Rae’s view as she dug around in her pack.
Rae had asked Vivienne about her backpack once, and Vivienne had promised to tell her what she kept in there—and why she insisted on keeping her bag close—but only if Rae exchanged her own secrets. Rae wasn’t ready to do that yet. Vivienne was funny, and brave, and ready to leap into a hole in the ground to save a friend. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t ditch Rae like a bad habit. Like Taylor had done at her old school. Like Caden had done here.
Rae didn’t want to risk opening herself up to that again.
Vivienne pulled out a long, coiled rope. “Nate?” she yelled. “Stop your puking and help us, would you?” She tossed the rope up and waited for Nate to grab the other end. She gave it a tug, and Nate stumbled forward, almost falling.
“Wrap it around a tree,” Vivienne said. “You’re no good to us if you fall down here too.” She rolled her eyes at Rae.
“You know what they say,” Rae managed, her throat tight. “Good help is hard to find, right?”
Vivienne grinned. “Exactly so.” Her grin slipped, and now Rae could see the fear hidden beneath it, and suddenly Rae felt a whole lot better.
She didn’t want to be the only one afraid.
“We’ll go talk to the police,” Vivienne promised. “See what they can do for… for these poor animals, I guess.” She tucked the bottle with the creepy bug inside her backpack and hoisted it over her shoulders.
Rae nodded. And when Nate told them the rope was secured, she told Vivienne to go first, even though every nerve in her body was screaming for her to hurry, to climb, to run into the sunlight and never leave it.
Alone in that dark pit, Rae looked into the goat’s face. “I’m sorry,” she told it. She blinked rapidly, her vision blurring, and didn’t allow herself to think beyond that, to wonder about the other animals buried here, to picture the families who were looking for them.
Rae wasn’t sure what had dragged them all down here, or why. But she would find out. And then, she would avenge them.
12. CADEN
Caden didn’t sleep well, his dreams full of giant, flesh-eating bugs and Aiden’s cruel smile. He woke in a tangle of sweaty sheets well before his alarm went off.
When Caden was little, he
’d been afraid of the dark because he didn’t know what hid inside its shadows. Now that he was older, he was afraid of the dark because he did know. So he always slept with at least one lamp on. Not that it would save him. Not when the monsters could move in the light, too.
He blinked against the bright glare, waiting for his breathing to slow. He couldn’t remember exactly what he’d dreamed, just tiny pieces. Aiden screaming for help before vanishing inside the Other Place. Aiden trapped behind a mirror, slamming fists against the wrong side of the glass. Aiden standing over him, grinning triumphantly… and bugs everywhere he looked, scurrying along walls and dripping off ceilings, long and skinny and stuffed full of legs.
Caden scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to wipe the dreams away, but the feeling of unease remained. No, not unease, he decided. It was that same sense of dread he’d felt last night.
Something was going to happen soon. Something awful.
He sat up, shoving his blankets to the foot of his bed, and did a quick glance around his room. He’d been shielding it for years, but ever since the Unseeing incident, he’d added additional protections. Besides the standard rose quartz in every corner, he now burned sage nightly and hung a talisman over his door, and another over his closed and shuttered window. It all looked and felt secure.
It was almost worse that way. If something had seemed out of place, then he’d know that was why he felt so… anxious. Like he was sitting in the front seat of a car a second before it crashed, fumbling with his seat belt and knowing he’d never get it clipped in time.
He got dressed quietly and slipped out of his room. Aiden’s bedroom door was firmly closed at the other end of the hall, but Caden didn’t want to chance his brother hearing him, so he crept down the stairs, easing his weight down one slow step at a time.
Aiden had been home for two days now and still hadn’t done anything terrible. Not even a passive-aggressive comment. He’d been super nice instead, making dinner for the family, doing chores without being asked, volunteering to watch documentaries with their dad or run errands with their mom. Caden, he mostly left alone. It was weird. Caden had built up all of that foreboding and didn’t know where to put it now. Maybe his brother really had forgiven him.
