River of Bones

by Angela J. Townsend

  Wolf grabbed my shoulders. “Don’t talk like that. We’re gonna beat this thing. Whatever it is.” He snatched the skull, tucked it under his arm, and bent down. “Get on my back and I’ll give you a ride.”

  I hesitated. “What if I'm too heavy?”

  Wolf laughed. “You're far from heavy, Dharma. Look, you need to start trusting me. And you have to start trusting yourself. You are stronger than you think you are, and you’re braver than you know. Now hop on.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, and collapsed against him. “Thanks,” I said, inhaling his woodsy scent.

  Wolf labored up the steps, every muscle in his strong back flexing beneath me. At the landing, I slid off and hobbled down the hallway to the master bedroom.

  “Good thing I made the bed last night,” Wolf said.

  “You did? Wow, thanks.”

  “I had to have something to do while you were sleeping.”

  He pulled back the blankets and held them up so I could climb into the soft bed. Wolf got on his knees and slid the skull underneath the creaky springs.

  “You sure you’re going to be okay up here?”

  “I hope so,” I said. “At this point, nothing matters but sleep, even if I don’t wake up.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Wolf said. He gazed into my eyes and leaned in close, his lips almost touching my forehead. My heart skipped. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he placed a hand against my cheek.

  “You still feel like you have a fever. No wonder, with everything you've been through.” He pulled away. “I’m going to camp right outside the door. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks,” I said. It felt good knowing he would be so close. I couldn’t blame him for not kissing me. My heart sank, I'm sure I looked totally gross. I closed my eyes, listening to his hollow footsteps as he walked away.

  Every sound set my nerves on edge—the howling wind, the rattling shutters, the clatter of pipes, a weird scraping outside my window. Then I heard another noise. A different kind of noise. Low. Raspy. I strained to hear against the wind, and held my breath. The eerie sound stuttered in the darkness.

  Heavy, mucus-filled breathing.

  Coming from under the bed.

  For several minutes, I didn’t move—couldn’t move. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the spooky sounds. The breathing grew louder, accompanied by a horrible gnawing, chewing sound. A thump came from under the mattress.

  I threw the covers off my legs. The chewing intensified, sending goose bumps rippling down my arms. I put one foot onto the floor, ready to jerk it back if something grabbed it. The weathered floorboards felt unusually cold beneath my toes. I put the other foot down, took a few steps away and aimed the light under the bed.

  A flash of movement!

  I inched closer, lifted the dust ruffle away from the bottom of the bed and peered underneath. The skull grinned at me, the gold tooth gleaming. Then, it moved an inch, tipping to one side. Two red eyes flashed in the dark. A rat peered around the skull, bits of bone in its mouth.

  I dropped the flashlight. It spun into a corner of the room, the beam flashing crazily on the walls and I scuttled backward. The rat advanced, its claws scraping the floorboards.

  My mouth hung open, words tumbled from my brain, but nothing came out. Where was Wolf? Why hadn’t he burst inside already? The rat snarled, pulling back its thin lips, baring ugly yellow teeth. Foam dripped from its mouth onto the floor. I reached for the flashlight. The creature lowered its head, reared back and barreled toward me. I scrambled to my feet, bolted from the room, and slammed the door behind me.

  Inside, the rat battered against the door, growling.

  Wolf leapt to his feet, tossing aside a tattered quilt wrapped around his shoulders. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  I shook my head and pointed to the door. “Rat,” I said, my voice so weak it was almost a whisper.

  Wolf narrowed his eyes at the door.

  I shivered. “It’s huge and disgusting. It tried to attack me.”

  “Probably just a swamp rat. I’ll take care of it—no problem.”

  Wolf kicked at the door. The rat growled and snarled behind it. “Okay, maybe it is a problem.”

  I leaned against the doorframe. “I have to go back in and get the skull.”

  Wolf frowned. “Are you sure you can do this?”

  “Like I have a choice.” Tears stung my eyes. “I just want this whole nightmare to end.”

  “Go downstairs and rest.” Wolf picked up the tattered blanket and wrapped it around my shoulder, then jerked his thumb at the door. “I’ll deal with our furry friend here.”

  “Be careful.”

  Wolf nodded. “Better get out of here before I open the door and it jumps out.”

  “What about the skull?”

  “I don’t know, but we have to take care of the rat first. Now get going.”

  I nodded and headed down the stairs. Each step seemed to take more effort than the last. Every creak and groan of the old staircase wore on my last nerve. Like it had any right to complain—I was the one with all the worry, all the sickness.

  Collapsing near the fire, I closed my eyes. The power of the curse drained me, stole my last bit of energy. My eyes snapped open. Even if the skull could talk, would it tell me how to end this misery? What if it didn’t? What if I died before it gave up its secrets? I pushed the thoughts from my mind but the horrible fear welling up inside me remained.

  A scuffle echoed from upstairs, followed by thundering footsteps down the staircase. The rat scurried into the living room, and I could hear Wolf close behind. I sprang from my seat and whipped open the front door. The rat swung its head in my direction. It paused, glared at me with its beady eyes, its fur rising in hackles. Then Wolf came into view. Darting a glance in the man’s direction, the rat reconsidered, hissed one final protest, and scurried out, disappearing into the night.

  “You let it get away—what’s up with that?” Wolf said.

  “What was I supposed to do?”

  “If we don’t deal with it now, it’ll be back later.” Wolf scowled. “It probably has a nest in here somewhere.”

  “Sorry,” I said, collapsing on the couch. “It can have the whole place if it wants. I just want to get better, find Mom and get out of here.”

  Wolf yawned and sat down beside me. “We better try to get some rest.” He propped his big boots on the end table and dozed off in the glow of the warm fire. I tried to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes I worried about Mom, I worried about the skull, I worried about the rat. I even worried about worrying. Plus, how could I sleep with Wolf so near me? What if I started sawing logs again, like I did before when he compared me to an old grandpa—I didn't need that again.

  Eventually I gave up, letting sleep take me away.

  Sometime later, I jolted upright. Someone was calling my name, faint at first. I rubbed my eyes and glanced at Wolf? Was it him? But that couldn't be, he was sleeping soundly, arms folded, snoring lightly beside me.

  “Dharmaaaaaa,” a voice whispered.

  I cocked my head listening, my heart jumping.

  “Dharmaaaa,” the voice called again. The sound came from upstairs, snaking down the stairwell. “Come, Dharmaaaa, come and see me.” The voice slithered up the back of my neck to my ear.

  “Who’s there?”

  I waited several seconds. No reply.

  I started up the steps.

  “Who is it?” I demanded.

  “Don’t you know?”

  I paused, frozen on the landing. My sore throat constricted.

  “Come to me, Dharmaaaa.”

  The voice floated from the master bedroom.

  The skull!

  I stepped inside the bedroom, my heart galloping.

  “Tell me how to break this curse,” I croaked. “I’m begging you—please!”

  Silence.

  “What do you want from me?” I shouted, clutching my raw
throat.

  “I want you to be my friend, Dharmaaaa.”

  My head spun, and the floor tilted beneath me. Old timbers crackled and muttered. I fell hard, pain radiating into my side.

  “How does it feel, Dharmaaaa? How does it feel to be alone in the dark? Forgotten and cast aside? How does it feeeel?”

  From under the bed came a strange crimson glow—blood! It spilled out in a great wave, crashing over me, pinning me to the floor. I struggled to free myself, thrashing until my muscles froze in the paralyzing liquid.

  A voice shrieked. “Come to me Dharma, give in to the eternal darkness. Death is your friend—darkness is your lover.”

  A low, unsettling tune filled my senses, luring my eyes closed. I didn’t want to sleep, I wanted to get out—but the power of the skull held me prisoner. My shattered mind raced, something was crawling around inside my head, probing at my thoughts. I struggled to fight, to kick, to escape. The tune grew louder, carrying me away into an endless night.

  Fear pulled me awake in the early dawn, jolting me back to reality. Muted light of yet another gloomy day wove through the moth-bitten curtains. Where was I? Then, horribly, it all came back to me. I glanced under the bed. The dark sockets of the skull glared back at me.

  Something moved inside its gaping mouth, flickering over the teeth, pausing on the gold one. A tongue? It wasn’t possible. Or was it?

  I froze, watching the tongue roll out of the skull, growing longer, thicker, before it dropped to the floor.

  My pulse quickened. It wasn’t a tongue.

  An olive colored snake slithered out. It must have been nesting in the skull, waiting for just the right time to strike. It pinned me with its lidless eyes, the pupils thin slits of deep green. The serpent reared its head and opened its mouth, revealing the pure white inside.

  A cottonmouth! The snake undulated closer, then paused. Its tail vibrated against the floor in a low, sinister chatter. It flattened its broad neck, hissing. The tail lashed back and forth in an agitated motion.

  “Dharma? Where are you?”

  Wolf!

  I couldn’t move! I didn’t dare to even blink.

  The snake slithered closer, its tongue flickering. I stared in helpless horror as it reared its head higher, exposing its venomous fangs.

  Ready to strike.

  “Dharma!” Wolf yelled. “Hold still. Don’t move!”

  Something flew past my head and landed with a dull thud. Blood spurted from the snake. It lay decapitated, twitching on the floor next to a hunting knife, with its gleaming blade buried in the floorboards.

  I lunged to my feet, jumped over the dead snake and grabbed the broom I had left the day before and poked at the skull until it was out from under the bed.

  I turned the foul thing over and peered inside, searching for more nasty creatures. My temper flared. “This stupid skull is only making things worse. I’m getting rid of it!”

  “Where are you taking it?”

  I squeezed the skull between my hands wishing I could crush it into a thousand miserable pieces. “Back where it came from.”

  “Yeah, but remember what Sassy said to do?”

  “She was wrong. Think about it. It was all too easy the way I took the skull from the swamp. Whatever evil lurks in those waters could have easily drowned me. It wanted out, to have its power unleashed. The water somehow kept the evil contained. It’s going back.”

  I marched from the room, clutching the hateful skull. A strange heat emanated from it, along with a terrible stench of rot. Nearing the stairs, a rush of dizziness washed over me, the floor tilting again. The spine-chilling tune I’d heard earlier drummed in my ears, pounding at my temples. The skull was trying to confuse me so I wouldn't toss it back in the swamp. It only confirmed what I already knew. The skull had to go back in the slimy mud of the bog where it belonged. I made my way down the steps, grasping the handrail. At the bottom, I stopped to rest, frustrated over how simple tasks stole my strength.

  Wolf came to my side. “You know, you might be right.” He peered at the skull in my hands. “But why toss it back in the swamp. Why not keep it someplace in case we need it again?”

  Glaring at the hateful thing I shook my head. “No. It’s going back in. No matter what. Somehow the water helped to control it. Held it captive.” I locked my jaw. “It wanted out. No wonder it was so easy to find.”

  “Okay, but afterwards let’s head over to Sassy’s. She has to know another way.”

  “I wish this would’ve worked.” I sighed. “I mean, I can’t even believe I dove into that gross water again. All for nothing!”

  “We’re going to beat this thing—whatever it is. We can’t just give up. Not now. Not after all we’ve been through.” Wolf narrowed his eyes and pierced me with a blazing gaze. “I’ve never lost a fight yet, and I don’t plan to start now.”

  I nodded. “I know you’re right. It’s just that I’m so wiped out. It’s hard to stay positive when it seems like every time I totally fail. I’m sick of it. I just want Mom to come back so we can get out of here.”

  “There has to be a way to defeat whatever it is. And we will, we just have to find the right way.”

  “I hope so,” I said.

  We walked through the kitchen and onto the back porch. A smothering layer of humidity blanketed the air. The heat made me feel even weaker, but I drew strength from Wolf's confidence. He was sure we could beat this thing—even if I wasn't.

  “All right,” Wolf said. “Let’s get it over with.” He grinned at me. “Bet I can pitch it way out in the middle.”

  “From here?”

  “No, I’ll have to get a little closer.”

  “I’ll wait here while you do it,” I said, taking a seat on the porch.

  A cool breeze stirred, rich with the smell of fresh cut grass and morning dew.

  Wolf hiked deeper into the backyard. “I think this is close enough. What do you think?”

  “I think you need to get closer.”

  “What? No way. I can totally rock this shot from here.”

  Wolf raised his hand. Behind him, something moved in the grass. I locked my eyes on it, watching as it rustled closer and closer.

  “Wolf!”

  He tossed the skull just as I called his name, throwing off his aim. The skull landed with a splash in the pond, but nowhere close to the middle.

  “You screwed up my shot!”

  “I thought I saw something.” I pointed to the weeds. “In there, in the grass.”

  Wolf examined the area. The grass remained still. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  The grasses waved to one side. Wolf stared into the weeds again. He put a finger to his mouth, signaling me to be quiet. He crept closer. Watching.

  Wolf shrugged. “I don't see anything.”

  “Come back,” I said, waving him toward the house. All I could think about was the thing that had chased Benny and I when we first arrived, the creature that had crawled out of the swamp, the blood oozing down Wolf's arm after being attacked on the lawnmower. Then it suddenly came to me. Maybe all these things were just one evil force. Trying to scare us, to keep us away—or worse. But why?

  Wolf followed me inside and after we washed up, we went into the living room. I had to rest again or I was going to collapse. Wolf sat beside me. I couldn’t believe he’d want to get that close. Even as sick and gross as I felt, he didn’t seem to mind it, at all. He was totally cool about it, plague and all, his friendship seemed so unconditional. It helped me to relax—to just be me, to let loose of the control and crippling self-consciousness.

  A car door slammed outside. “Someone’s here.” I got up and peered out the window.

  My heart dropped. Officer Cain was back, holding his hat in his hands. Was he going to give me bad news about Mom? Every ounce of me wanted to run, so I wouldn’t have to face what he was going to tell me.

  The cop reached out to knock on the
door, but I opened it before he could. “Did you find my mom? Is she okay?”

  “No, we haven’t, Ms. Moore.” He frowned, studying my face. “Are you feeling all right?”

  I shook my head. “Not really, but I’ll live. I hope. Have you found out anything?”

  “Nothing yet. I did file a missing person’s report and I have people searching the vicinity where the bus was found. Um, there’s another matter. I have someone here that needs to speak with you.” He nodded at the police car and my heart skipped. I knew this routine. It was some welfare agency telling me I could no longer be in charge of Benny.

  “You want to step out here and talk to this gentleman? He refused to come in. Something about the old place makes him uneasy, I guess.”

  A heavy-set man sat in the back of the squad car, nervously dabbing his head with a red handkerchief.

  “Child welfare?”

  “No, no,” the cop said putting up his hands. “It’s nothing like that. He said he has something he wants to give you. Something that belongs to you.”

  Wolf nudged me. “I’ll go with you.”

  We walked down the front steps to the side of the squad car. The man inside forced a smile and rolled down the window.

  “Ms. Moore, I’m Howard Denton.” He handed me a business card. “I’m an estate attorney from New Orleans.”

  I read the card and frowned. “What’s this all about?”

  “I represent your father’s estate.”

  “My father? I don’t have a father. You must have me confused with someone else.”

  “No, I certainly do not. I take it your mother didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what? Mr. Denton, not to be rude, but I don’t feel good. Could we hurry this up, so I can go sit back down?”

  He opened the car door and eyed the house. “Guess it wouldn’t do any harm to sit on the porch for a spell, so we can talk things over.”

  Denton stepped out of the car, appearing way overdressed in his tweed suit and silk tie. With every step toward the porch, his black leather dress shoes creaked under the strain of his weight. He lowered himself onto the porch beside me and Wolf stood close by, listening.