The Haunted Forest Tour

by Jeff Strand

  The giant black bird flew down into the ice bowl and landed next to Christopher.

  "Remember my friend here? Bet you didn't know it was a round-trip flight. See ya on the other side. Try not to drip too much blood onto the trees."

  The bird rose into the air again, dug its talons into Christopher's shoulders, and carried him off.

  * * *

  Freedom.

  Eddie could hardly believe it as the sun shone through the edge of the Haunted Forest. He'd made it.

  Almost.

  This was no time to get caught up in giddiness. He was still surrounded by monsters, and things could still go extremely wrong. But he couldn't help but feel a bit of optimism. Not a "dance around and sing show tunes" level of optimism, but a "Hey, I may just get out of this without being devoured!" level of optimism.

  He almost wanted to simply make a break for it, but no. Stay smart. Stay alive. Other people were counting on him.

  Whoa. Where had that come from?

  Booth glanced back at him. "You're making a—"

  "I know, I know. Terrible mistake. Duly noted."

  "What are you going to do with me once we've left the forest?"

  "You're just my monster repellent. As soon as we're outta here, I'm done with you. You can run back in there or you can donate your soul to Jesus; I couldn't care less." That wasn't true. He had every intention of finding out exactly what Booth's role was in this whole little nightmare. But he was only a couple of minutes from freedom and didn't want Booth to try anything funny at the last moment.

  "Do you really think they're going to let us just walk out of here?" Booth asked.

  "Dunno. Would be nice."

  "You're living in a fantasy world."

  "Was that statement intentionally ironic?"

  "No."

  "Oh."

  Almost out...almost out...not too many steps left to go to get out of here without dying...oh, God, it would suck beyond belief to die this close to the exit...

  Something slithered past his foot. Eddie didn't even look down. He had to maintain his concentration. If Booth really was concerned about leaving the forest, he was going to make his move any second now.

  He thought the various growling sounds from the monsters around him were starting to get louder, but it was probably just his imagination. Yep, definitely his imagination. They weren't planning to attack. Nope. Everything was happy for Eddie Turner in the ol' Haunted Forest.

  "By the way, try anything and I'll blow your fucking head off," Eddie told Booth, just as a reminder. "You won't get a chance to see your monster friends take me down."

  "They're not my friends."

  "Whatever they are, you'll be dead before they so much as lay a pincer on me. Got it?"

  "You've made this point before."

  "I'm re-making it. Don't mess up."

  "I wouldn't dream of it."

  They continued walking. Eddie tried to keep from letting out a happy squeal as they came into the wide-open area where the tour began. Still in the forest, still surrounded by a shitload of beasties, but close enough that they could see several men in military fatigues standing on the lawn outside.

  They immediately raised their firearms—scary-looking ones—and pointed them at Eddie and his hostage.

  Oh, shit...

  "Sir! Lower your weapon!" shouted the one who was closest.

  Shit...shit...shit...

  "I can't do that quite yet!" Eddie shouted back. "Give me thirty seconds!"

  The growling was definitely getting louder.

  "Sir, put down the weapon now!"

  "He's taken me hostage!" Booth shouted. "I'm Martin Booth! I own H.F. Enterprises! The man is deranged!"

  Eddie would have really liked to pull the trigger and give the monsters a nice shower of brains to feed on, but that would only leave the question of whether he would perish via machine gun bullets or tooth and claw.

  "Sir! You have five seconds!"

  "Promise you'll shoot the monsters before they get me!"

  "Sir—!"

  "Promise!" Eddie shoved Booth as hard as he could. The bastard stumbled forward several steps then pitched over and fell on his face.

  The creatures pounced.

  Eddie dove to the ground as the loud ratatatatatat of automatic weapon fire filled the air. Something squealed right next to him and a generous gout of some sort of fluid hit his back. He lay there, covering his face, as some bullets whizzed past him and others struck the unseen horrors that were coming after him.

  Something dead and heavy fell onto his legs.

  He let out a yelp as teeth clamped down on his ankle. He rolled over and fired a shot into the face of a furry creature that would actually have been kind of cute if it weren't trying to dine on him.

  The machine gun fire continued.

  Dead and dying creatures fell to the ground on all sides of him. A giant dragonfly practically exploded inches above his face. A bullet tore through the tip of his shoe, but he wasn't sure if he'd actually been hit or not.

  A boar with way-too-big tusks was running toward him. Eddie shot at it and missed. Shot again and hit it right in the snout, but it kept on running. A burst of rapid fire shredded the rest of its nose and eyes and it veered off course, head splattering against a tree.

  Eddie rolled back over and scrambled forward, keeping his body as low as possible so that the military men wouldn't hit him (again?) with their fire.

  Booth was still on the ground. No monsters were trying to eat him, the lucky bastard.

  "Hold your fire!" the soldier in front shouted. He waved at Booth and Eddie. "Run for it! Go! Go! Go!"

  Eddie got up and sprinted out of the forest. The man in front didn't hold his own fire, instead taking out one, then two, then three, then four different creatures that dove at Eddie as he ran. Eddie half-expected Booth to run back into the forest, but instead he fled as well.

  Free...holy shit, I'm free...

  Something huge leapt from a tree—a black, deformed tree, not like the ones he was used to—and tackled Eddie to the ground. As he struck the grass his teeth clacked together right on his tongue. He heard a loud crack that he was pretty sure came from his own body. And the breath squeezed out of his lungs as if...well, as if something really heavy had landed on him.

  A claw ran down the back of his scalp.

  Machine guns fired.

  Eddie wanted to scream but couldn't breathe to do so.

  He spat out some blood.

  More machine gun fire.

  The thing on top of him roared.

  Gurgled.

  And then slumped over, motionless.

  Eddie pulled himself out from under it, wincing at the bolt of pain that rushed through his side. He got up and staggered forward, as the soldiers blew away several more creatures that were coming for him. He didn't even look back to see what had landed on him.

  "Enough already, goddammit!" Eddie shouted as he rushed past the closest military man. He then lost his balance and landed on the lawn again, but spun around in time to see the soldier pull the pin out of a grenade.

  Sweet...

  The soldier hurled the grenade into the mouth of the forest. It exploded in a blast of white light that illuminated the entire area.

  Another soldier pulled Eddie to his feet. "Are any other humans following you?"

  Eddie shook his head. "No, but there are—"

  "Then let's go."

  Under cover of the soldiers, Eddie and Booth raced to safety.

  * * *

  "I want that man arrested," said Booth, pointing to Eddie as they approached H.F. Enterprises. "He held me at gunpoint and forced me to..." Booth trailed off, obviously unsure of how he was going to explain the recent chain of events.

  "He was delusional," Eddie said. "He refused to leave the forest, and I couldn't very well let him die out there." He spat out some more blood. "I couldn't have lived with myself if I let those things get him when I could've saved him. So I had to reso
rt to extreme measures. You would have done the same."

  The soldiers nodded.

  "He's lying! Arrest him immediately!" said Booth. "I pay your salaries!"

  "The American taxpayers pay my salary," said the soldier who'd thrown the grenade. "And, sir, you've been through a very traumatic experience, I need you to calm down."

  "He was like this the entire time," Eddie explained. "He almost got me killed."

  "What's going on here?" asked a man, walking toward them. There was a young woman with him, and Eddie was able to distract himself from his pain quite easily by admiring the way she looked in her blouse.

  "Mark! Hannah!" said Booth. "I need you."

  "What's wrong?" Mark asked. "Where've you been?"

  "I've been...I've been trapped in the Haunted Forest."

  "You've what?"

  "I went on one of the trams. I barely survived. This—" Booth looked over at Eddie and sighed, "—this gentleman saved my life. He was one of the drivers."

  "We're going to need all of you to clear out," said the grenade soldier. "It's not safe here."

  Eddie started to make a sarcastic comment, but decided to show some respect to the men who'd saved him, and who still had machine guns and grenades.

  "I need to go back in there," said Booth.

  "I don't think so, sir," the grenade soldier told him.

  "It's essential!"

  "Sorry. You know we can't allow that. Come with us and we'll take you to safe quarters."

  "No, I'll..." Booth looked over at Mark and Hannah. "I'll go with you two." For a split second Mark looked a bit unsure, but then nodded.

  "Wait, wait, I need to talk to him," Eddie said.

  "I have nothing to say to you."

  "He knows something."

  "He owns the company," said Mark. "He knows lots of things. We'll take care of him."

  "But—"

  Mark took out a business card and handed it to Eddie. "You can call us with questions. For now, go with these men and get to safety."

  Eddie snatched the card and shoved it into his pocket. "Fine. Drive safe."

  "We will."

  As the three of them left, Eddie returned his attention to the soldiers. "There are still survivors in the forest."

  "How many?"

  "Just a few. But I know where they are."

  "I have news for you. They're either dead or will be dead. Nothing official yet, but I'll be damn surprised if the President doesn't authorize dropping a bomb on this place."

  "You mean nuclear?"

  "Big enough that you won't want to be anywhere near this forest, that's all I can say. You made it out alive. Count your blessings. You're lucky as hell."

  Eddie nodded and spat out some blood. "Yeah. I think you shot my little toe off, by the way."

  "I apologize for that sir. We'll take you to safety."

  "Question for you. I got attacked by a bunch of things that looked like aliens, and I shoved a grenade in one of their mouths and blew its head off, and then all of the other alien heads blew up, too. Why do you think that happened?"

  The soldier shrugged. "Hallucination brought on by trauma."

  "That can't be it."

  "Misinterpretation of events brought on by the stress and confusion of the situation."

  "I'll just stop worrying about it."

  "Thank you, sir."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Hannah stared at her car with a wide-open mouth. Her little Subaru was currently perched between two very thick branches that creaked and swayed a good twenty feet off of the ground.

  "Maybe we better take my car." Mark started fishing for his keys.

  "Oh, you think?" She shot him a withering look.

  "That was a joke."

  "Excuse me if I'm not in the mood to laugh."

  Mark stared at her. He certainly couldn't pretend that he was a completely selfless individual. But to watch people get torn apart—eaten—and then get pissy about her car was cold. Damn cold.

  "I'm just thinking it might get us the hell out of here a little faster at this point," Mark explained.

  "I realize that."

  "She doesn't appreciate the joke," Booth said.

  Mark came this close to telling Booth to mind his own business before he caught himself. H.F. Enterprises wasn't finished yet. And he needed to be on Booth's good side as much as possible, in case they decided to find a scapegoat during the inevitable finger-pointing in the weeks to come.

  In case? Oh, there would be a scapegoat. No doubt about it. And Mark didn't want that unlucky bastard to be him.

  "Look," he told Hannah, "if you really want to take your car we can, but I don't think it's gonna go well. I'm just sayin'." Now he was just nervously babbling, stretching out a joke that wasn't funny in the first place to an unappreciative audience. Time to shut off the mike.

  God, he was a lot more freaked out than he'd realized.

  He didn't want to go to jail.

  Without further comment, Mark, Hannah, and Booth headed over to his Saturn. "I'll ride in the back," Booth offered.

  Hannah nodded, opened the passenger-side door, and got in.

  "Do you think your car will be safe here?" Mark asked. "For all we know, the building might not even survive, if more trees keep popping up."

  "My limo dropped me off this morning. Very inconvenient."

  "Ah." Mark opened his own door and got into the car. He fastened his seat belt, then realized that Booth was still standing outside, staring back at the forest.

  Mark rolled his window down. "Sir? Are you okay?"

  Booth sighed. "I wasn't supposed to leave."

  "What?"

  "I wasn't supposed to leave the forest. I should've shot that asshole, but I couldn't do it."

  "Sir, you should get in. We'll get you to safety."

  "I don't think I can go back now." Booth looked down at the ground. "I couldn't shoot him. If I'd shot him, everything would be fine."

  Great. Booth's cracked. Mark unfastened his seat belt, but Booth sighed once more and got in the back seat, shutting the door.

  A moment later they were off, heading for the paved road that led back to the interstate and Dover's Point.

  They drove in silence. Booth stared out the window, blankly. Mark wanted to ask him what he'd seen while in the forest, and more importantly, what the fuck he was doing in the tour tram in the first place, but he left the man to his thoughts. He had to be respectful. Stay on his good side.

  Hannah also stared out the window. Under other circumstances, there would've been a delightful electricity in the air, with Mark desperately wanting to flirt with the woman of his dreams (second to Chloe, of course) but unable to do so with their boss in the back seat, like teenagers in the same room as their parents. But this time he didn't even care that the top button of her blouse had popped open.

  Okay, he cared a little. Just not as much as he normally would have.

  The road started cracking and buckling.

  He let out a soft yelp and so did Hannah. He just barely managed to swerve into the other lane and avoid being flipped through the air as the tree came up.

  Mark gunned the Saturn's engine and they broke the speed limit. The sooner they were away from the area, the better chance they had of surviving.

  A mile away from the offices, new trees were still growing.

  "Is it me, or are they coming up faster?" Hannah's voice shook a bit.

  "Oh, they're definitely growing faster." He could see the ground starting to bulge just to the right of the road, and swerved before the asphalt could crack open and spit out a new hyperactive sapling. "Lots faster."

  Mark managed to swing back to his own lane just in time to avoid the oncoming rush of police cars, complete with flashing lights and wailing sirens. They came on fast, and he honked his horn to warn them of the up coming obstacles. If they noticed, they didn't bother with a thank you.

  Hannah's head was now moving around almost constantly, her eyes seek
ing any possible dangers. "Oh shit! Look!"

  She pointed to the west, where they could finally see the end of the trees.

  Well, sort of.

  The tree line mostly ended, except for one string of new growth that pointed like an accusatory finger straight toward Dover's Point.

  Mark slowed down as he looked at the town in the distance. He could see the trees punching out of the ground, one after another, and even from here it looked like some of the trees were already in town and doing damage.

  "Jesus Christ!" Mark's hands hit the steering wheel. He'd known that the situation was dire, but getting a couple of miles away from the forest should've been the solution. This...this was like the trees were attacking Dover's Point.

  He took out his cell phone and speed-dialed Chloe's number.

  No answer.

  Hannah leaned forward for a moment to get a better view of something up ahead, and then leaned back just as the ground shook underneath them. Not a mild tremor like they'd felt previously, but the sort of vibrations that had Mark clutching the wheel and screaming like Speed Racer in an old cartoon. The Saturn skimmed across the surface of the road like an ice cube on a hot skillet and with about as much control. The asphalt disappeared from under them and was replaced by hard-baked soil and a few rocks.

  Mark pumped the brakes carefully and fought the bucking wheel under his hands. Booth remained silent and eerily calm in the back seat. Hannah screamed her encouragement regarding the way Mark was handling the situation in the form of ear splitting shrieks and held onto the dashboard and the handle above her door until, finally, Mark managed to stop the car.

  Both of them looked slowly back toward the road and the rising swell of dirt and ruptured pavement.

  "What now?" Mark's voice was strained enough that he could barely recognize it.

  "Just start the car, Mark. Get us out of here before we find out, please." Hannah made perfect sense, so he listened to her.

  The car moved like it was supposed to, and he headed back for the road a good distance ahead of the swelling area.

  They rode over the terrain until they caught the smooth road again and then he accelerated, casting a cautious eye toward the mounded spot behind them.