The Devil's Woods

by Brian Moreland

  He and Ray checked out three campsites, but found each of them empty. The fourth campsite they hiked to marked the final X on the map. Kyle had been almost certain his father’s team would be camping at this one, but there were no tents. No archaeologists sitting around a campfire. No Elkheart.

  “Damn it.” Kyle took off his cap and rubbed a hand through his hair.

  Using his staff, Ray limped to an area where log benches circled a fire pit. He knelt over a circle of rocks and ran his fingers through weeds growing inside the pit. “I’d say it’s been several months since anyone camped here. Sure this was the spot?”

  “This was his favorite.” Staring across a creek, Kyle felt his faith waning.

  Ray stood. “I don’t know what to say, except maybe we should head back west toward my neck of the woods.”

  But Kyle had stopped listening. Something at the far side of the site had caught his eye. A swatch of beige fabric was caught on a thorny bush. Kyle removed it, examining the fabric. It was made of smooth nylon. “This came from Dad’s tent. I recognize the camouflage pattern.” Kyle shook his head. “I told him it was dog-shit brown. He said he didn’t care. He’d gotten it on sale. You know how Elkheart likes to buy things cheap.” Kyle rubbed the swatch between his fingers, trying to pick up an imprint, but no visions came. His intuition felt strong, though. “Dad was here.” He scanned the forest that ran alongside the road. “Maybe he’s still in these woods, at a site that’s not on the map.”

  Ray examined the scrap of cloth. “It’s pretty faded. This could have been left from a year ago.”

  Kyle pulled out a compass, stared at the direction of the rising sun, then pointed to where an even lesser traveled road seemed to continue northeast. The tire tracks were almost overgrown with grass, but Kyle had a strong gut feeling. “Let’s follow this road awhile.”

  “I doubt he would’ve gone that way,” Ray said. “The reservation ends not far past this point. Let’s head west.”

  “We can turn around once we hit the border.” Kyle started down the grassy road.

  Sighing, Ray hobbled after him. “Walk slower then.”

  They hiked through a field of giant ferns. Kyle’s heart beat wildly at the thought of finding his father. Around a second bend the tire tracks ended at a wall of dense brush.

  “I told you, dead end,” Ray said. “Time to turn back.”

  “I think he’s here.” Kyle pushed back prickly branches and squeezed through the thicket. For several yards, he could see nothing in the maze of crisscrossing limbs but blue sky above. His boots splashed through shallow water, stirring up a sulfur stench. Then the briars opened to a dark, murky swamp. “This must be Kakaskitewak Swamp,” he said as Ray caught up.

  All around, thick vegetation pressed against the stagnant water’s edge.

  Ray whispered, “We shouldn’t be here.”

  But Kyle wasn’t listening. He hurried out of the sucking mud and stepped onto the wooden boards of a dock. Tied at the end of it was a canoe. Muddy water, leaves, and mosquito larvae collected in the bottom of the canoe. A steady wind bumped it against the pier.

  Ray hobbled onto the dock behind him. “Kyle, we need to get away from this place.”

  “Why?”

  “This swamp borders the forbidden section of the reservation. See?” Ray pointed. Fifty yards across the tar-colored water, a wall of black pines pressed up to the edge. Several pines had bone-white animal skulls nailed to the bark. Some with antlers, some with tusks. There were at least three per tree. Like totem poles.

  Kyle looked at Ray. “What’s with the skulls?”

  “Our ancestors hung them there long before you or I were born. The totems serve as a warning to stay away from these woods.”

  * * *

  When Eric finally drifted out of his slumber and into the blinding-bright den, the ceiling was spinning like a top, and a circus of people were chattering around him. Something wet and sticky brushed against his cheek. Eric got a whiff of stale canine breath. His face twisted away in disgust. “Get this mutt off me.” Instead the Rottweiler licked his face. “Dog, go the hell away.”

  “He’s just showing you a little affection.” Jessica sat beside Eric, running her fingers through his hair. “Wake up, sleepy head. You’re the last one still in bed.”

  He rubbed his face. “I have a screaming headache.”

  “Well, that’s what you get for drinking too much,” she said with her motherly gaze. “You need to learn when to stop.”

  “Excellent, this hangover comes with a lecture.” As his eyes fully focused, Eric realized where he lay. “Why am I on the couch?”

  “This is where you passed out. So you got to sleep with Kyle.”

  “What!” Eric felt his anger rising, but then gritted his teeth. No, keep your cool. He was going to start this day on Jessica’s good side. The first step was not to say anything bad about his brother. Eric forced a grin and stroked her arm. “You mean you had to sleep alone?”

  “That’s right. Drink that much again, and you’ll sleep down here tonight, as well.”

  Man was she being cold. Eric wasn’t worried. His charm always warmed her up. She started to stand, but he held her arm. “Don’t go yet. How about a good-morning kiss?”

  “I’d rather kiss Chaser. Brush your teeth, and we’ll see.”

  “We’ll see? How about a kiss on the forehead?”

  Jessica sighed, glanced at the others in the kitchen, then leaned over the bed and kissed his forehead. Eric bear hugged her, pulling her small body on top of his and gripping her ass. He kissed her neck and was surprised when she pulled away, hitting his shoulder. “Eric, don’t. Not in front of your family.” Jessica climbed off of him. “Now get up. You’re wasting the day.”

  “Fine, I’m up.”

  “Want some breakfast? Kyle made a batch of scrambled eggs and sausage.”

  “No thanks.” Eric sagged back against his pillow, too sick to his stomach to have an appetite. He should never have mixed beer and vodka. He watched Jessica prepare herself a plate and sit at the table with Shawna and Zack. They said something to her and Jessica laughed. Eric sensed something different about his girlfriend today. She seemed friendly to everyone but him. He didn’t like it.

  Shawna gave him a look that was full of attitude. “Bro, you look like the walking dead.”

  “Yeah, Yeah.” While the others ate breakfast, Eric staggered into the downstairs bathroom and washed his face with cold water. He stared into the mirror at his dripping reflection. His hair stood up in corkscrews. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. No wonder his girlfriend hadn’t wanted to kiss him.

  Eric added Visine drops to clear his red eyes. He then took a shower, then shaved his face and styled his hair with gel. After toweling off, he sprayed on cologne, brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth with mint-flavored mouthwash.

  When Eric looked back in the mirror, he smiled. A face no woman could resist winked back at him. Let the games begin.

  * * *

  At Kakaskitewak Swamp, Kyle felt a knot in his stomach as he stared across the black water at the pines covered with animal skulls. These trees gave off the same humming vibration as the forest yesterday where he’d rescued Chaser. Kyle wondered if he were to touch those totem poles what secrets they would tell. He reached down and grabbed the canoe’s rope. “I’m going to paddle over.”

  Ray grabbed his arm. “It’s forbidden.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s sacred Cree law.”

  Kyle remembered the warnings the elders used to say to the kids, If you go past Kakaskitewak Swamp, the woods will snatch you. “Why has our tribe always been afraid of this place?”

  Ray stared across the swamp. “Macâya Forest is like a living thing that feeds on whoever enters it. It happened to Hagen Thorpe’s lumberjacks over a century ago. And it’s happened to a few members of our tribe since. Grandfather lost his brother to those woods. He says it was the Macâya that got him.”

  “S
ome kind of devil creature?”

  “I don’t know what it is.” Ray stared at the black pines. “But it’s not an animal.”

  At the opposite bank, Kyle thought he saw something move behind the trees, a flash of gray, but when he blinked it was gone. He looked back at his cousin. “Wait a minute, you told me that you didn’t believe in the Macâya legend.”

  “I didn't, until a year ago. I decided to explore the woods and see why everybody around here fears Macâya Forest so much.”

  “What did you find?”

  “A dark rainforest, thick as a jungle. The vegetation conceals numerous sinkholes. I nearly fell into one that I couldn’t see the bottom of. As I wandered deeper, I started to think of the legend. Pictured a dozen stout men with axes slung over their shoulders, hiking through a green mist into these woods. And then something going horribly wrong, as if the forest itself had turned against them, tearing the men to pieces.”

  Ray looked at Kyle with eyes full of fear. “Well, those images got to me, so I headed back. But then something happened in there that I can’t explain. A creature roared from the tunnels beneath the forest. Somewhat like an angered grizzly, but worse. And then the ground attacked my leg, and I was being dragged toward a dark pit. I gripped some roots and hung on for dear life. But the beast grabbing me was damned strong, and I felt the tendons in my leg tearing as the thing and I played tug-of-war. I kicked myself loose, then raced like hell, dragging my limp leg behind me. I’ve never gone back.”

  “So why not just tell me the whole story from the beginning?” Kyle asked.

  “Because I was afraid you kids might get curious and go exploring in there.”

  “So you believe the Macâya really does exist.”

  Ray rubbed his bum leg. “Some underground creature clawed my leg and crippled me. I paid the price for breaking sacred law. And that’s reason enough to stay away from this area. I suggest you do the same.”

  * * *

  Eric exited the downstairs bathroom, wrapped in his towel, allowing Jessica a glimpse of his tanned pecks.

  He climbed up to the loft to get dressed. As he was sifting through his suitcase, he noticed Jessica’s journal on the air mattress beside her pillow. He glanced over the rail. She was still seated at the breakfast table. He grabbed the journal and opened it. He had read sections of her diary before. Most of it was musings about what she did that day or venting about the stress of med school. Eric flipped to the back page. Each day was a different colored ink, which reflected her mood. Today’s page was purple.

  Saturday morning. I’m sitting on the cabin’s balcony with a fresh cup of coffee. Birds are singing in the trees. The sunrise over the Canadian mountains is so beautiful. Eric skimmed through all the boring description until he got to a paragraph where he saw his name. I don’t know what’s going on with me and Eric. Our one-year anniversary is tomorrow and we aren’t getting along. He seems different now. Or maybe I’m different. Are my feelings changing? Can I really be sure he’s the one for me? If so, then why am I so drawn to Kyle?

  Angry, Eric tossed the journal across the room.

  He heard footsteps coming up the winding staircase and Jessica stepped onto the loft. “There you are.”

  Turning his back to her, Eric pretended to look busy, digging through his suitcase. He felt knots of jealousy and sadness in his chest. He dropped his towel to see if she would respond to his nakedness. He expected her to hug him from behind, but she didn’t. Instead, she stood at her dresser with her back to him, searching through that damn medicine kit.

  “What patient are you treating now?”

  Jessica held up a bottle of Advil. “You, silly. You said you had a headache.” She gave him the bottle, but didn’t hold eye contact or even so much as glance at his body. She started to turn. He grabbed her wrist. “Jess, wait.”

  “Yes?” She looked more beautiful than ever.

  Eric’s anger dissolved into a sudden fear of losing her. As he stared into her eyes, he was overcome by a strange tingling sensation in his chest that he had never felt before. “I…uh…uh…”

  Her eyebrows raised and she looked impatient to get somewhere. “Yes?”

  “Uh…thanks.”

  She pinched his chin then put the aspirin bottle back in her bag.

  Eric released a breath. He’d almost said the words “I love you”. Yet they hung at the back of his throat. He wanted to say them. But expressing his feelings didn’t come as easily for him as it did for her. He dressed and tried to think of a way to get Jessica’s attention away from Kyle.

  Eric stepped behind her at the window and caressed her shoulder. She was busy going through their stuff and didn’t stop when he touched her. He massaged her tense muscles. “Hey, slow down, babe. What’s the hurry?”

  “I’m trying to get organized. Everything up here’s a mess.”

  Eric looked at his stuff scattered across the loft. True, it was a little messy, but in a comfortable way. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll clean it up in a minute. Babe, relax. How about we—”

  Jessica moved away from him and crossed the room to where her journal was turned upside down. “Why is my diary all the way over here?” Her face was taut, her brows pinched.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’ve been reading my diary, haven’t you?”

  “What? No, no.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Eric.”

  “Okay, I may have glanced—”

  “These are my private thoughts. You have no right—”

  “Well, I can’t believe you’re doubting our relationship after all I’ve done for you!”

  “Maybe I wouldn’t be doubting if I thought I could trust you. I saw you flirting with that girl at the marina yesterday.”

  “That? That was innocent. You’re thinking about cheating with my brother. That’s fucked up. I can’t believe you would even consider such a thing.”

  Her eyes sparked with fire. “I was only processing my feelings. You’re blowing this all out of proportion. Don’t ever read my diary again!” She stormed down the stairs, leaving him standing alone in the loft.

  * * *

  Kyle and Ray returned to the village later that afternoon. Kyle felt about as hollow as the rundown shacks that lined the dirt road. He was nowhere closer to finding his father than before. He couldn’t get Macâya Forest out of his mind. Would Elkheart have gone in there? He would have been breaking the tribe’s sacred law. According to Ray, the woods beyond Kakaskitewak Swamp harbored a mythical creature, like the Jersey Devil in the backwoods of New Jersey. As much as Kyle was a fan of horror films and novels, he didn’t believe that legendary monsters really existed. He saw them as reflections of man’s dark psyche. Ray had probably been attacked by a bear or wild boar and out of sheer superstition believed it was the Macâya.

  When Kyle entered the main cabin, he heard Jimmy Buffet singing “Margaritaville”. Zack, Eric and Grandfather were seated around the dining table, playing dominoes. The girls were in the kitchen, making sandwiches. Shawna looked up. “Hey, guys, you hungry?”

  Ray sat on a barstool at the counter. “Famished.”

  Kyle stood in the den, watching everyone having fun. No one seemed to care that Elkheart was missing but him.

  Ray munched on a potato chip. “Kyle, you’re father will return when he wants to and not a moment sooner. If you spend your whole week worrying about him, you’re going to spoil your vacation.”

  Shawna said, “Yeah, bro, kick back and have a beer.” She popped open a can of Moosehead and passed it to him.

  Kyle drank the cold brew.

  “You guys see anything interesting out there?” Jessica asked.

  Ray shot Kyle a conspiratorial glance. “Nothing but trees.”

  Kyle debated on whether to let the others in on what he and Ray had discovered. Eric didn’t seem to have any interest in finding their father, and Shawna, who had never known John Elkheart, only cared about partying. Kyle reminded himself that they ha
d come here to reunite with their cousin and grandfather and enjoy being on the land. “So, Ray, Eric said that you and Grandfather have something you wanted to pass down to us.”

  “That’s right,” Eric said. “Did we inherit something?”

  Ray smiled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “When? When?” Shawna asked, bouncing up and down.