The Haunting of Hounds Hollow

by Jeffrey Salane

  “You can tell that from a shoe print?” Bess looked impressed. “But what if it were two or three kids all wearing the same type of shoes?”

  Lucas considered it, then shook his head. “No. The patterns of the shoes are almost always facing in the same direction. If it had been multiple kids, the toes and heels would be pointing in lots of different directions. Plus, these prints are only in one area. We’re looking for one kid.”

  “Three things,” repeated Bess. “You said the dirt told us three things.”

  “Yeah,” said Lucas as he looked at her. “That’s the part that freaks me out a little. The dirt back here is dry.”

  “So?” asked Bess.

  Lucas stood up and pushed on the barn door from the outside this time. It rattled but didn’t open. “So, you were right. Dry dirt means it didn’t rain. And that’s impossible. I was caught in the storm right by the front of the house. It rained everywhere. This dirt should be a muddy mess.”

  Bess remained crouched on the ground and rubbed over the shoe prints, erasing them while Lucas wasn’t looking. “You’re right. The dirt is dry. It didn’t rain at all today.”

  Lucas followed the foot scuffs in the dirt where the stranger ran back into the woods. He stopped at the edge of the forest. “Bess, what’s really going on in Hounds Hollow?”

  She got up and peeked through the knothole into the barn before facing Lucas. Her face was pale. “It’s a long story. And if I tell you, you’ll need to keep an open mind.”

  “Tell him what?” Both kids jumped at the sound of Mr. Trainer’s voice.

  “Whoa, Dad! Don’t sneak up on us like that!”

  “Sorry, champ, it’s time for dinner. I called but you couldn’t hear, I guess. Your mom saw you run off the porch in this direction, so I came to get you.” His dad waved to Bess. “Of course, Bess, you’re invited, too, if you’d like to join us.”

  Lucas expected her to jump at the opportunity to get inside Sweetwater Manor, but Bess shook her head.

  “No, thanks, Mr. Trainer. I’d better get home, too. See you tomorrow, Lucas?”

  “Yeah, sure” was all Lucas could say as Bess pushed past him and ran into the woods—in the same direction as the stranger.

  Lucas wasn’t hungry. He spent most of the meal pushing mashed potatoes, grilled chicken, and green beans around on his plate. His parents didn’t seem to notice. They talked about getting the car fixed and making school arrangements for Lucas.

  “What do you think?” Mom asked him.

  Lucas straightened up in his seat, snapping to attention. “Sorry, what?”

  “Did you seriously not hear what I just asked?” Mom smiled and rolled her eyes with her buoyant laugh. “The school bus, we need to sign you up for the route. You’re okay taking the bus to school, right?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Lucas forced a bite of food down while his parents were looking at him. “Maybe I could ride my bike?”

  “Since when do you have a bike?” asked Dad.

  “Oh, Bess is letting me borrow one,” said Lucas. “She brought it by today. I can totally use it for as long as I want. She said it was cool.”

  His parents fell silent and looked at each other. Then his mom took the lead.

  “Cool or not, I’m not sure you should be riding a bike.” She held her fork in front of her with a piece of chicken dangling from the edge. “I’ve seen my fair share of bike accidents in the city.”

  Lucas knew she wasn’t worried about bike accidents. She was worried about whether he was healthy enough to ride a bike. He could see it in her eyes. She was picturing Lucas fallen in a ditch and unable to catch his breath. She saw him winded and gasping for air when he should be putting on the brakes. She saw her sick son trying to ride away from her. That’s why she stared at her food and not at Lucas.

  “This isn’t the city, Mom,” Lucas pointed out. “I’m not going to get doored by someone getting out of a parked car.”

  “What about a parked moose?” joked Dad.

  “Too soon, Kyle,” Mom said.

  The reminder of the car accident set another hush over the room, like the dinner table had been covered by a glass top. Everyone was quiet for a moment.

  “Your father and I will talk about the bike.” She gave Lucas a weak smile. He knew that Your father and I will talk about the bike was code for You’ll never ride that bike in your life.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Lucas set down his fork with a clink against the plate. “I’m tired. Is it okay if I go to bed now?”

  “Of course,” said Mom. “You had a big first day. Go get some sleep. We’ll pick up the bike versus bus debate tomorrow.”

  Lucas nodded and headed back to his room. As the door creaked open, the blue walls were hidden in shadows. The sun had set during dinner, casting a deep darkness across the house.

  He hadn’t been making up an excuse to leave dinner. Lucas was really exhausted. His eyelids weighed a million pounds. They itched to be closed. He clicked on the overhead light and stumbled over to where his dresser had been, then remembered that he slid it across the room in front of the mirror. He thought about changing out of his clothes, but even the three extra steps to the mirror seemed too far to make it. He fell into bed.

  Lucas grabbed the edge of the heavy, green comforter and pulled it over him. As he drifted to sleep, Lucas heard the padded footfalls of Lucky running and leaping from the wood floor. Then he felt the cat’s familiar weight on his blanket.

  “Good night, Lucky,” he said, then turned off like a light.

  The next morning, Lucas woke up crammed into a tiny corner of the giant bed. A warm body snuggled against his back, breathing peacefully. Lucky never slept like this in the city.

  “Hey, Lucky, are you a cat or a bed hog?” Lucas asked as he flipped the covers over the sleeping animal. It was playful revenge, but the cat sat still, a lump on the bed.

  Lucas coughed and sat up to find bits of dried mud and grass all over the sheets. The clothes he’d slept in were dirty, too. Climbing out of bed, he changed into clean clothes. Then he walked back to get the cat. “Time to rise and shine, Lucky.”

  But the lump under the blanket didn’t stir. It just breathed, lifting the covers up and down.

  “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Lucas grabbed the comforter and flipped it back over, expecting Lucky to jolt awake. But there was nothing under the blankets.

  Behind him, the door to his bedroom nudged open and in strutted his cat.

  “Lucky?” Lucas asked as the cat walked past him, then jumped on the bed, sniffing and exploring like it was brand-new territory. Lucky stretched and sank his claws into the mattress, plucking them back up to make a half-scratching, half-popping sound. Dust puffed into the air with every pop. Then the cat curled up and settled down to sleep.

  Lucas backed away from the bed like it was cursed. Breakfast, he thought, that must be it. He needed to eat. Lucky must have been in his bed last night. There was no other explanation.

  Lucas walked through the main hallway on his way to the kitchen, when he saw the bike that Bess had given him leaning against the stairs. There was a helmet hanging from the handlebars.

  “You should thank Eartha.” Mom was sitting on the stairs, drinking a cup of coffee. “She saw the bike on the porch and happened to have a helmet. Try it on.”

  “Really?” Lucas asked. “Like I’m not asleep and dreaming right now, am I?”

  “Yes, really,” said Mom. “Now try on the helmet before I change my mind.”

  He lifted the helmet up to study it like a precious ruby. It was pitch-black with silver reflective strips that looked like lightning all around it. It was also enormous. Unlike the bike helmets he’d seen kids wear in the city, this one was like a motorcycle helmet.

  He tried it on and it covered his entire head. It made his breathing sound like Darth Vader. “Can I go for a ride?” His voice rattled around the inside of the helmet.

  His mom held her own breath dramatically, then
heaved out a long sigh followed by a smile. “Yes. But don’t go far, okay?”

  “Thanks, Mom!” Grabbing the handlebars, Lucas pushed the bike outside and down the steps. He climbed on and began to ride. At first his tires skidded in the pebble driveway. Lucas wobbled, but he didn’t fall. Then he picked up speed and rode the bike by the side of the house. A few workers walked past him. Lucas waved, but they didn’t wave back. He wasn’t sure if he could get used to having them around all the time, even if Eartha insisted that he would.

  He pedaled on behind the house to the back doors of the old barn. He braked and kicked up dirt. There were no more signs of strange footprints, only his and Bess’s from the day before. Lucas paused and listened. The barn was quiet, but the woods behind him were rustling. Bess had run into the woods here the other day. She’d said she was heading home. The only problem was that Bess’s home was in the other direction. Where had she gone?

  He needed to see for himself.

  Lucas scooted the front wheel of the bike around to face the forest. Then, after a deep breath, he rode straight on. Lucas felt the tires of the bike dropping down and rising up to meet the forest’s uneven ground. Roots, pinecones, and natural dips made his ride anything but smooth. There wasn’t a clear path, either. He pushed on as the branches from small trees and bushes brushed against him. If he were walking, it wouldn’t have hurt, but on his bike, the small slaps from nature stung his arms, legs, and chest.

  The faster he pedaled, the louder his breathing echoed within his helmet. Over his Darth Vader–style gasps, Lucas could also hear the whiz of the bike gears and the scattering of small animals from the underbrush around him. The wind pushed against his chest as he pedaled harder and the bike bumped and bucked like a bronco. Lucas felt every kick rattle his hands on the front grips.

  He looked around the forest as he rode and saw something close to him. It was a shadow, tracking him and keeping up with his speed. A light blast of hot air nudged him from the side, and Lucas felt the bike turn left, away from the shadow. He leaned hard against it, fighting to keep going straight.

  There was a clearing up ahead. The shadow seemed to be racing there. Peeking from the corner of his eyes, Lucas tried to make out what the shadow was. It was smaller than him and moved incredibly fast. For a moment, it looked like a large cat—no, maybe a small dog. Either way, the race was on, and the hot air coming from Lucas’s right side became stronger and stronger the closer he came to the clearing. It felt like the sun was beaming directly on him with heat so intense that he worried about getting a sunburn.

  Lucas had never pedaled so hard and with so much determination in his life. Looking at the shadow, it was as if he was chasing something and running away from it at the same time. It thrilled him and made his heart beat out of his chest.

  Then the shadow darted into the clearing, and Lucas stood on his bike, pedaling at top speed. Nothing was going to stop him now.

  Nothing except the boy who suddenly stepped out from behind a tree and tackled him right off the bike.

  “Aaagh!” Lucas cried.

  His head rattled in his helmet as he hit the ground. The bike, which had felt so steady underneath him, flopped over Lucas like a wounded animal. It clung to him awkwardly as the rear tire smacked his back. Lucas’s hands fumbled into the dirt as he tried to catch himself.

  A second after the crash, Lucas looked for the shadow he’d been racing, but the dark streak was gone.

  “What were you thinking?!” The boy’s white shirt was dirty from the ground and there was a stick in his hair. “You could have been killed!”

  “By you, maybe!” screamed Lucas as he flipped off his helmet. He could feel the scrapes on his elbows and knees start to burn, but his anger burned brighter. His mom was not going to like this. Not one bit. Lucas jumped up and shoved the bike aside. “What’s your deal? Do you always tackle other people in the woods?”

  The kid swatted a leaf out of his hair and searched the ground instead of looking back at Lucas. He was black and skinny and wasn’t the least bit concerned that Lucas was upset. His once dark jeans had been sun-washed gray with rips in the knees, and the gray pants made the kid’s neon-yellow Nikes glow. The only sound was the rustle of the kid searching through the underbrush of the forest. Quickly, he found what he was looking for—a brown loop like a belt next to Lucas’s wrecked bike. The kid snatched it and threw the loop around his shoulders. It was attached to an old camera, one of the kinds that prints pictures instantly. The kid clicked it open and inspected the camera before mumbling under his breath, “You have no idea, new kid.”

  Then it hit Lucas. He’d seen this kid before. “Hey, I know you. You were the one riding the horse in town the other day. What are you doing out here? Are you following me?”

  Lucas stepped forward, but the kid pointed at him accusingly. “Watch where you’re going next time. I might not be here to help.”

  Then the kid snapped his camera shut and took off running into the forest. He was fast. Lucas lost sight of the strange horseback kid after a few steps into the trees, neon Nikes and all.

  “Like I needed help!” Lucas’s scream echoed in the woods. He really hoped camera boy had heard him.

  Lucas shook with bubbling energy as he walked back to his wrecked bike. He thought he’d crashed deep in the forest away from all signs of life, but that wasn’t the case. Picnic tables with long benches were mixed into the trees, spread out like they’d been abandoned in the middle of the woods. How had Lucas not noticed them while he was riding? Stepping over his bike, Lucas jogged to the wide-open clearing where the shadow had been leading him. At least he felt like the shadow had been leading him there. Or was it running away from him? Or had there not been a shadow at all?

  As he stepped to where the forest ended, the adrenaline coursing through him washed away and a different sensation took its place. Lucas’s stomach lurched and his knees buckled. What he’d thought was a clearing wasn’t a clearing at all.

  An old wooden sign lay on the ground. It must have been knocked over very recently, because Lucas could see the fresh splinters and the almost white wood at the base of the sign where it had been snapped apart. The sign read WARNING: DEVIL’S DROP AHEAD.

  The ledge was steep and sudden. Even if the sign had been intact, he would have never seen the drop in time. Lucas shifted onto his hands and knees to peer over the edge. The jagged rocks below stuck out in all directions, like flames frozen in stone form. At the bottom, Lucas could make out a deep, black sliver of a hole. It looked like the entire ravine had exploded open from that one spot. The rest of the forest around the hole was thick, lush, and green, but in this one spot, nothing grew other than stone.

  Lucas didn’t want to admit it, but if it weren’t for the camera kid, he would have been buzzard bait at the bottom of that pit.

  Carefully, he backed away from the cliff and went to his bike, which was covered in mud. Lucas went to rub it off, but jerked his hands back quickly. The frame was scorching hot. The bike fell sideways again, and Lucas leaned in to study it. The sour smell of melted metal almost knocked him out. The bike hadn’t landed in mud; it had been charred on the right side.

  Lucas stepped back, then saw something against the tree where the horseback kid had been hiding. Duct-taped to the lower branch was a Polaroid camera. The front was open. Lucas reached for it and the camera flash went off right in his face. He reached toward it again and the flash erupted a second time. Annoyed, he tore it down from the tree. D. Lindsay was written in black marker on the back of the camera. Wires spilled out of the camera, too. They were connected to a smaller lens. Lucas waved his hand in front of it and the flash went off for a third time.

  “Motion-detecting cameras in the forest?” Lucas leaned down, trying to make sense of it all. “But why didn’t it take any pictures?”

  He ran his hand over the leaves on the ground, and a white corner peeked out from the foliage. Lucas grabbed the corner and picked it up. It was a photograph wi
th a fresh Nike footprint stomped on the back. He’d seen this print before … it was the print from behind his barn—the one that had mysteriously disappeared. It looks like he’d discovered the stranger. But why was the horseback kid—this D. Lindsay—spying on him?

  Lucas flipped the picture over angrily. It was a photo of the forest. He followed where the camera in the tree had been pointing and saw the exact same scene in real life. He held up the photo. Seeing a picture of the forest next to the actual thing was oddly unsettling. Lucas thought for a second, then scattered away more leaves on the ground. Sure enough, he found other photos. Each one was the same image of the forest with very little changed. Some were taken during the day. Some at night. He combed through the photos until he found what the camera kid must have been looking for.

  The picture was hazy, taken at night. Still, the sight of the photo made Lucas’s neck hair stand on end: It was the shadowy blur he had been chasing—and it stared back at him with glowing red eyes.

  Quickly, Lucas stuffed the picture in his pocket and ran back to the bike. He held his hand over it, testing for heat, but the metal frame was cool now. Lucas looked around, then picked up his helmet and set it on the handlebars. There was no way Lucas was going to ride the bike again that afternoon. So instead he walked it back toward Sweetwater Manor.

  As he traveled, the forest shifted around him. He had felt so free and excited during his bike ride out there, but now he realized just how lost he was. Nothing looked familiar.

  Suddenly a howl moaned in the distance. Even though it was the middle of the day, Lucas picked up speed. Another howl answered, and this time it was closer. The forest around him went quiet and still. Lucas felt like he was being watched and called out, “Hey, horseback kid! If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not funny.”

  Then, to Lucas’s right, a third howl shattered the silence, and that was three too many. In an instant, Lucas was on his bike and pedaling away from the noise. His helmet dangled from his handlebars as Lucas pumped faster. Howl after eerie howl erupted, forcing Lucas to swerve left and then right to escape the strange calls. Maybe his dad was wrong. Maybe there weren’t bears in the woods. Maybe there were wolves.