The Devil's Woods

by Brian Moreland

  At the center of the village stood the main cabin—a three-level log-and-rock structure. Behind the cabin smaller shacks stood decrepit and leaning. A couple had collapsed to piles of rotted timber. Scattered about the village were a few rusted cars and trucks that had been taken over by vegetation.

  Shawna frowned. “You said we’d be staying in paradise.”

  Kyle said, “I meant the land. The cabins need some TLC.”

  “They look like they’re about to topple over,” Shawna said. “Are you sure it’s safe to stay here?”

  “Don’t worry. Dad’s cabin is built solid.”

  “Where are all the people?” Zack asked from the backseat.

  “The tribe moved off the land years ago. Only our grandfather lives here fulltime.” Kyle spotted Grandfather Two Hawks sitting in his favorite rocking chair on the front porch, smoking a pipe. He looked their way as the Jeep and Hummer parked. As everyone piled out, Kyle shouted, “Hello, Grandfather. It’s your grandkids.”

  The old man stuck his pipe in his mouth and looked down at his crossword puzzle. Next to his rocker, a bin was stacked full of puzzle books and weathered copies of TV Guide.

  Kyle leaned against the porch post. “It’s good to see you again.”

  Grandfather had short silver hair and wore thick glasses. He was dressed in his usual buttoned-down shirt and jeans. He looked like he’d put on some weight since last summer. Grandfather had diabetes and Kyle wondered if he remembered to take his shots when no one was around to look after him. “Here, I brought you this.” He placed a new crossword puzzle book and a pouch of tobacco on a table next to his grandfather. In the tribe’s tradition, it was custom to bring tobacco whenever meeting with elders.

  Grandfather only glanced at the gifts. Last time Kyle visited, his grandfather had been showing signs of senility. He was hard of hearing and half-blind from cataracts. These days he kept mostly to himself.

  The others came up the porch steps and Kyle introduced them. Grandfather barely acknowledged them also. Kyle wondered if he could even see them. We must be blurry images to him.

  Eric and Shawna gave Kyle a concerned look. He nodded for them to head into the cabin.

  After everyone went inside, Kyle sat next to Grandfather. “I was wondering…can you tell me where our father went? Has he been here lately?”

  The old chief stared straight ahead and mumbled something in Cree.

  Kyle wished he had taken the time to learn his native language. “Can you say it in English? I can’t understand you.”

  Grandfather looked confused. He sank back into his chair and smoked his pipe.

  Kyle heard one of the girls yelp and ran inside the cabin. “What’s wrong?”

  Shawna was standing on a chair, waving her hands real fast.

  Jessica said, “Eric just chased a raccoon out of the house.” She pointed to a plate of food that had spilt on the floor. “The back door was left open.”

  Shawna climbed down and examined something on the floor. “Lovely, raccoon droppings.”

  Kyle put his hands on his hips. “What a mess.” The den was a shambles. The air smelled stale and fetid. Flies swarmed the entire den, buzzing in his ears.

  “The electricity doesn’t work, either.” Jessica flipped a light switch up and down.

  “There’s a generator out back,” Kyle said. “I’ll take a look. First, let’s check the rest of the cabin for critters.”

  Zack and Shawna disappeared up the back stairway. Jessica wound up the spiral staircase to the third-story loft that overlooked the den and dining area. Kyle cleaned up the mess in the kitchen. He cursed Elkheart and Ray for leaving Grandfather unattended. Kyle’s dad and uncle, both alcoholics, could be so irresponsible. Kyle never quite understood why, but the relationship between Ray, Elkheart and their father had always been strained.

  At the dinner table, Eric and Zack unloaded beer from the coolers.

  “Is it Miller time?” Shawna asked.

  “No,” Kyle said. “We have a few issues to work out first.”

  “Yeah,” Eric said. “The fridge doesn’t work, and it’s full of rotten food.”

  “The entire cabin’s been overrun by rodents and bugs,” Jessica called down from the loft. “I found several spiders up here.”

  “Ew.” Shawna grimaced. “I hate spiders.”

  Zack’s fingers crawled up her arm. Shawna slapped his hand. “Quit it. I vote we go back into town and stay at the lodge.”

  “We’re staying here,” Kyle said. “This used to be our home.”

  “Kyle, seriously,” Eric said. “This is not livable.”

  “We’ll make it livable.” Kyle slapped his hands together. “Gang, put your work clothes on. We’ve got some cleaning to do before we settle in.”

  * * *

  In the Podunk town of Hagen’s Cove, Lindsey Hanson listened to a Beyoncé song on her iPhone, while stapling a flyer of her missing sister onto a telephone pole. Lindsey’s dad was across the street, showing two Mounties on horseback a photo of Amy. The two men in red uniforms shook their heads.

  Lindsey walked down the main street, stapling flyers on every pole she passed. This was the fifth small town she and her dad had visited in the past two weeks. He was convinced that something bad had happened to Amy. That maybe some backwoods stalker had abducted her like so many girls before. Lindsey couldn’t even go there. She had seen too many scary movies to bear the thought that something horrible could happen to her big sister. No, Dad was wrong. Amy was alive somewhere, working on an expedition with her anthropology professor. Lindsey’s sister was a grad student at the University of Vancouver and had been so excited to finally get off campus and do research in the field. She couldn’t talk about the location or what she was researching, because her professor was all secretive about it. The big secret Lindsey did know was that Amy was sleeping with her professor. She had emailed a photo of Dr. Elkheart. Lindsey had freaked. Her sister was seeing a man older than their father.

  Just four years apart, Lindsey and Amy texted each other daily. As soon as Amy had gone on the expedition, the texting had stopped. Weeks had gone by and she hadn’t responded to any of Lindsey’s or her father’s messages. Lindsey told herself that her sister was just off the grid, either because she wasn’t near a decent satellite signal or she was working on a project so top secret that she couldn’t talk to anyone until the expedition was over. Lindsey liked that scenario most. She just wished Amy would send some kind of message so their dad could finally chill. At this point Lindsey would settle for smoke signals.

  On her iPhone, a Lady Gaga song ended and switched to Nickelback. Lindsey rocked her head to the music. She turned a corner off the main street and walked down the hill to a cemetery and stapled another flyer to a pole.

  A maroon hearse pulled up to the curb beside her, and a man rolled down his window. “Hey, what you posting there?”

  Lindsey handed him a flyer. “We’re looking for my sister, Amy Hanson. Have you seen her by chance?”

  He stared at the sheet for several seconds, reading all the stats below her photo. The guy, who was probably thirty-something, had an odd smell to him. Then again, he was driving a corpse wagon. He looked back at Lindsey. “No, don’t believe I’ve seen this one. Is she a college girl?”

  “She’s a grad student from Vancouver,” Lindsey said. “She was supposed to be somewhere around this lake before we lost touch with her.”

  “How long ago?”

  “About six weeks. Her last contact was June first.”

  The guy nodded. “We get a lot of college girls this time of year. They come up for the summer and party on their boats. Do a lot of drugs and whatnot.” He winked. “My name’s Hugo. You must be Lindsey.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Word travels fast in this town.” Hugo grinned and stared at her breasts. “You like to party, Lindsey?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I got a boat down at the marina and a couple hits
of X.” He nodded toward the backseat. “After I bury this casket, I’d be happy to take you for a ride.”

  “Fuck off, creep!” Lindsey started walking back toward Main Street. She could no longer see her father.

  The man drove his maroon hearse alongside her. “Sunset’s mighty pretty on the lake.”

  * * *

  It took over two hours to get the cabin into a livable state. Every window and door was open, and a breeze blew through, airing out the dust and raccoon odors. Although the power still wasn’t working, Kyle stocked the fridge and pantry full of groceries.

  In the den, Jessica sprayed lemon-scented Lysol. “Can one of you strong men give me a hand moving the furniture?”

  Kyle helped her slide the sofa, loveseat and two chairs around a coffee table.

  “There that does it.” She surveyed the spacious den. “The cabin’s quite roomy now that we’ve tidied up a bit.”

  Above them, Eric leaned over the rail of the loft. “Hey, babe, can you get my laptop? I left it in the Hummer.”

  “Sure. Excuse me, Kyle, duty calls.”

  Kyle watched Jessica exit the front door, admiring how she looked just as good from the back as the front. When he turned, he noticed Eric staring down from the loft.

  “Like what you see?”

  Kyle smiled. “She’s a great girl. You have my approval.”

  “Uh-huh. Just remember who she came here with.” Eric stepped away from the railing.

  His brother’s words stung. Kyle had been staring at Jessica. He had felt such a rush hanging out with her today that he’d had to watch himself to keep from letting it show.

  At least I know I can like someone new.

  He stashed his backpack and bedroll in one corner of the den. The foldout couch was going to be his bed, since there were only enough bedrooms for the couples and Grandfather. Elkheart’s upstairs bedroom would remain empty in case he returned. Kyle wasn’t crazy about sleeping below the loft within earshot of Eric and Jessica.

  She came back inside, carrying Eric’s laptop case. She was wearing the biggest grin. “I just saw some deer run across the road.”

  “We usually put corn out and watch them eat in the backyard. Maybe later you can help me fill the feeder.”

  “I’d like that.” She started up the stairs to the loft.

  Kyle looked away. Damn it, quit flirting.

  A half hour later, as he swept the floor, he got the strange sensation he was being watched. He looked out the back windows that offered a panoramic view of the forest. Just past a covered porch lay a backyard overgrown with weeds and high grass. Beyond, a path parted the trees. Kyle’s throat constricted, just as it did every time he was about to leave his apartment. As if Death were waiting for him to step across the threshold. Kyle now wondered if he should venture out into the woods. Remaining within the safety of the cabin seemed like a perfectly fine vacation to him. And what would Dr. Norberg say about that, Kyle? He knew what she would say: that he was transferring his agoraphobia from his apartment to the reservation. That if he stayed inside, he wasn’t taking any positive steps toward facing his fear of the outside world.

  Great, now I’m being my own shrink.

  Kyle stared at the desolate village and woods beyond. Why was he feeling so paranoid? He had lived here the first ten years of his life, when his mom and Elkheart were still married. Kyle had fond memories of playing with his brother and cousins, while the tribe grilled the catch of the day and sat around a fire. Grandfather Two Hawks, who had spoken English then, told story after story about the trials of their ancestors. Kyle remembered Grandfather leaning over, pointing a bony finger at him, staring with piercing brown eyes. “The forest on our land is sacred and alive. So be careful how far you wander. The trees have eyes, and they are always watching.” Later one night, at the age of nine, Kyle swore he saw something creeping through the moonlit woods—a scarecrow-shaped shadow with eyes of white fire.

  Now, staring at the same forest at dusk, Kyle felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing. To the naked eye, the forest appeared serene, a benign place straight out of a nature film, with singing birds, chirping cicadas and yellow butterflies fluttering in a field of wildflowers. But he had a bad feeling this was just a façade.

  “Um, Mr. Elkheart?”

  Kyle turned around to see Zack standing there, holding a stack of Alex Winterbone novels. “I was wondering if you’d autograph my books.”

  “Sure.” Kyle was thankful for the distraction. “Got a pen?”

  “Yes, sir.” He dug one out of a long, black wallet that was chained to his jeans.

  Kyle set the hardback books on the dining table and signed all four of them.

  Zack hovered next to him like an eager fan at one of his signings. “If you don’t mind my asking, how do you come up with such wild ghost stories?”

  Kyle thought about all his real encounters with ghosts—the specter that walked the halls of his apartment, the murmurings at the cemetery whenever he visited the graves of his mother and his wife. “I’ve always had an active imagination.” He once told an audience that he was clairvoyant and could see beyond the veil of the physical world, but they all laughed, thinking he was kidding. Better to let them think it’s all just fiction.

  “I can’t wait to read what happens to Winterbone in Ghost Vengeance,” Zack said. “Your last book ended with such a mind-fucking cliffhanger. Any idea when it’s going to come out?”

  “As soon as I finish writing and deliver it to my editor. Maybe while we’re here you could read the first few chapters and let me know what you think.”

  Zack’s eyes widened. “Dude, that’d be a total honor.”

  Kyle handed him the books. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Elkheart.”

  “Please, call me Kyle.”

  “Yes, sir.” Zack went back up the stairs with an armload of books.

  Shaking his head, Kyle returned to the back windows. The forest had darkened with shadows as the sun went behind the clouds. Again, he felt eyes watching him.

  “Is that the path that leads to the swimming hole?” his sister said.

  Kyle turned to see Shawna and Jessica were standing behind him, wearing shorts and bathing suits. Towels hung across their shoulders.

  “Yeah, it’s a couple hundred yards down the hill.”

  “Good,” Shawna said. “Jessica and I are going for a swim before it gets dark.”

  Kyle glanced at his watch. “You only have about an hour of sunlight left.”

  “That’s all we need,” Shawna said.

  “Care to join us for a dip?” Jessica asked.

  “Uh…” Kyle looked out at the forest. Was that a face peering through the branches? He didn’t want to leave the cabin. But he knew how stubborn Shawna could be when she set her mind to something. She would go with or without him. “Yeah, sure, I’ll join you guys.”

  “Not so fast.” Eric’s hand gripped his shoulder. “We need to fix the generator.”

  Shawna grinned at Jessica. “All right then, I guess it’s just us girls.”

  Kyle said, “Don’t stray too far from the village. The bears are out this time of year.”

  “Bears?” Jessica shuddered.

  “Yeah, brown bears,” Kyle said. “They won’t bother you if you make a lot of noise. If you see one, wave your arms and make loud whooping sounds. That should run it off.”

  Eric pulled Jessica into his arms and kissed her. “See you in an hour, babe.”

  “Okay.”

  As the two women disappeared into the mouth of the woods, Kyle had the urge to run after them. He felt frustrated. No one else seemed to sense the forest the way he did. How the shadows moved behind the trees when no one was watching. How the trees themselves formed hateful, twisted faces. This wasn’t the same reservation he had loved so fondly. Something had changed.

  The trees have eyes, and they are always watching.

  Feeling like he’d made a bad decision coming here,
Kyle wished he were back in Seattle. His apartment might have been haunted, but at least the ghost was familiar.

  * * *

  As Jessica hiked down the forest path, she realized this was her first time alone with Eric’s sister. Jessica normally swam laps by herself, but she had invited Shawna along, so she could get to know her better. It felt awkward. They had nothing but Eric in common. When Shawna and Zack had shown up on their doorstep three days ago, both were dressed in all-black Goth outfits with matching spiked collars. The first couple nights, Jessica had feared Shawna and Zack were going to steal from her purse or freebase heroin in the guest bathroom, but so far they’d behaved themselves.