Black Eyed Children (Black Eyed Children Series Book 1)

by Sara Clancy

  “Go!” she shouted the second the dogs were on the sheet, and she pointed to the cabin with every ounce of authority she had.

  Mercifully, Bannock chose this moment to be obedient and he sprinted forward, dragging the wounded pups behind him at an astonishing speed. Out of the corner of her eyes, Ruby spotted the little boy. He hurled the pan into the bonfire and ran for her. There wasn’t time to get around him and back to the cabin. Turning, she hurled herself around the edge of Mark's truck, praying that he also never felt the need to lock his vehicle. She sobbed with relief when the door popped open under her touch. Hurling herself inside, she reached back to slam the door shut. It crashed her already battered leg between the seat and the door. Pain sizzled along her leg, but she managed to lock it anyway. The boy smacked his hands into the window, leaving smears of Mark’s blood across the glass before he ran around towards the driver’s door. Ruby lunged for it, her trapped foot held in place, contorting her knee until she yelped. The door lock was just out of her reach. Holding the blade of the knife, the icy metal slicing into her palm, she jabbed at the lock with the thick hilt. It snapped into place just as the boy arrived.

  He wasn’t out of breath. He wasn’t in pain. Standing completely still he stared at her, the firelight dancing across his inky black eyes. Ruby could only stare back, frozen in horror as she realized that the boy hadn’t burned. His flesh had liquefied. The skin of his forehead dripped with the consistency of melted wax, warping the shape of his skull like there were no bones underneath. He didn’t blink as his skin oozed over his left eyes and gathered along the line of his mouth. Slowly, he lifted his hand and tapped his knuckles against the glass.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  “Excuse me, miss. Can I come in?”

  As a streak of fur and fang, Fire raced across the yard, moving too fast for the little girl to keep up. He launched into the air, crashing his weight onto the boy. They both toppled down beyond Ruby's view. Without thought, Ruby threw herself at the door, hand fumbling with the lock. It popped open and she spilled out of the truck bed. Her feet hit the ground and the pain was instant. It crackled in her ankle and lashed across her knee, making her buckle against the side of the van. Fire's growls were as loud as the older girl's screams. She had dragged herself from the flaming pit. Her clothes glowed like embers as they melted against her softening skin. Ruby had lost sight of the smallest child. Locking her eyes on the cabin and readjusting her grip on her knife, Ruby ran for it, each step bringing a new wave of pain.

  Bannock was at the cabin door. The rest of the pack clustered around the door, scratching at the screen as they tried to get to the wounded pups. Ruby wrenched the door open and backed it there with her body. Bannock dragged forward but struggled to get the dogs over the heightened threshold and past the others. She dropped to her knees. The blood oozing from her palm seeped into the material as she bunched her hands in it and tried to lift them up. With her muscles freezing and the knife still heavy in one hand, her body wasn’t up to the task. Bannock surged forward again. She shoved. And they slipped into the warmth of the cabin.

  Fire used her back for a boost as he bounded over her. The sudden blow crushed her against the floor, her skull cracking against it. A blinding white claimed her vision as the world seemed to tilt and heave. Bracing her hands on the floor, she tried to push herself up. The cold had both numbed her and changed her skin into a bed of needles, each one of the thousands driving into her as she moved. Every movement felt as if her bones would rip free. Still, she refused to release her hold on the hilt of her knife.

  The screen door dug into her side. Her body was too ravaged and her thoughts too thin for her to meet the challenge of moving it. A hand grabbed her ankle. It drove her limb against the earth as it squeezed. Pain ripped through her as her bones bent under the pressure. Instinct caused her to rear her back, her hand flying wide. There was a moment of resistance. A soft, wet squish. Ruby blinked, her vision cleared, and she found herself staring at the knife. It was now buried to the hilt in the smallest child's eye.

  Her frozen fingers refused to release the hilt as she trembled. The fingers on her leg released, allowing Ruby to pull free and scramble back over the threshold. The retreat slowly pulled the blade out of the twitching girl. At last, it slipped free. The black eyed girl dropped like a rag doll.

  Ruby couldn't scream. Each attempt broke apart in her raw throat and became desperate gurgles and clicks. The screen door bumped shut between her and the night. A crunch of snow made her gaze snap up. The motion brought a pain that nearly blinded her again. The other children approached. Their steps measured and unhurried. Snow flickered around them on the growing breeze. The cold didn’t concern them, but Ruby’s body was wracked with violent shudders. There were only a few points of warmth left on her body, each one hidden under the blood that trickled from her palm and forehead.

  The two older children, both melted and deformed, looked down at their little companion. Observing but silent. The corpse twitched and jerked. Wild barks filled the cabin and Ruby scrambled further back, drawing her legs away from the door. A scream rattled from her chest as she watched the dead girl blink. Her eyelids skimmed over the mangled remains of her flesh twice more. Then, like a marionette pulled up by its strings, the girl rose back onto her feet.

  Ruby's ribs ached with her heaving breaths. “What are you?”

  The boy stepped to the front of the group. Fire's fangs had ripped apart his body, but he didn’t bleed. His melted skin dripped from his features. Ruby could hear the droplets hitting the snow as he knocked against the screen frame.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  “Excuse me, miss. You have to let us in. We promise to be quick.”

  Ruby kicked the internal door shut.

  Chapter 12

  Waves of pain woke her. Nausea twisted up her stomach as her vision shifted and her head throbbed. Blinking her eyes open, she found herself sprawled over the cabin floor. Blood had pooled under her skull, becoming tacky as she slept. It tugged at her broken skin as she forced herself to sit up. Struck by a dizziness that sparked against the inside of her skull like fireworks, Ruby braced her hands on the floor and tried not to retch. If there had been anything in her stomach, she was sure it would have ended up on the floor.

  This is bad. The whisper came from the deepest recesses of her mind. Having never suffered a concussion, Ruby didn't know the sensation. But she was sure that she hadn't laid down to sleep. She had passed out. The untreated wounds of her palm scraped against the wooden floor, making her hiss and snap her hand away. Pangs sizzled down her legs. They started in her knee, travelled along her shin, and splashed out through the joints of her ankle. She whimpered at the thought of putting any weight on it.

  Bannock nuzzled against her side, his cool, wet nose bumping against her flushed cheek. Without looking at him, she rubbed at his fur, using the back of her hand to protect her cuts. He struck her with a bit more force. Her stomach heaved as she swayed and forced herself to lift her head. The sleeping bag was still looped around his neck, the pups cradled on the padded train. Pain rattled through her as she forced herself into a sitting position and began to work Bannock free. With that done, she found her knife and slashed off some long, thin strips.

  Clean up. Check the dogs. Get the hell out of her before sundown. The water jugs were too heavy to move with one hand. She kicked it over, washed her hand in the water that gushed free, and left the rest to gurgle out for the dogs to drink. It took a few wipes to clear the dried blood and get a decent look at her wound. Puffy and red, she hoped the arctic air would keep it from swelling too much. At least it didn't look infected.

  She wrapped a strip of the cloth around her palm, not sure if her makeshift bandage would do more harm than good. As she pulled herself to the pups, she wished she had saved some of the water. But they would have to wait. There was no need for an x-ray to know that their hind legs were broken. The bones pushed against their skin at odd places, and any cuts had b
een licked clean by the pack. Small growls escaped both of them as she neared. There wasn’t much she could do, anyway. And she decided any of her attempts wouldn’t be worth the pain.

  “Don't worry,” she soothed as she patted each of the pups in turn. “I'm getting us out of here.”

  Forcing herself onto her feet was excruciating. She had to grip the end of the bed with both hands and hurl herself up, the crushing pain leaving her on a broken moan. She paused, waiting for it to ebb away before she dared to tug at her pant leg. Her knee looked far worse than her hand, and she wasn’t going to suffer the pain of removing her boot to get a glimpse of her ankle. It wasn't broken. Anything else could be dealt with when she got to the hospital.

  Clenching her teeth, she struggled into her jacket and gloves, trying and failing to keep her mind focused on escape. We'll be gone before sundown, she reassured herself as the thoughts still bubbled to the surface. There won't be any need to run. Still, dread pooled in her stomach. Her best defense was gone. She yanked open the wooden door and a scream ripped from her throat.

  In retrospect, she should have known that the black eyed children would do something with Mark's head. But she hadn't expected them to leave the severed skull on her doorstep. Gripping the doorframe, she barely managed to keep herself upright as she broke apart into hysterical sobs. It was the pain that brought her back. That urged her forward.

  As she slipped out, she was careful not to touch him. But it was too close and the screen door tapped against his cheek, making him rattle slightly. It was all for nothing as the dogs surged past her. The door slammed open and his head was sent bouncing over the snow. Ruby squeezed her eyes shut, choked down a breath, and limped forward.

  The snow had fallen overnight to cover most of the evidence of what had happened. It blanketed Mark's body and smothered the bonfire embers. But what drew her attention was how high the sun was. How long was I passed out? The already short hours of sunlight had dwindled all the more. Move! The command made her lurch towards Mark’s body as fast as she could. But it wasn’t that fast. The layers of snow would have been hard for her to move through normally, but her pronounced limp slowed her process to a crawl. Keys, she thought. He has the truck keys.

  She didn't bother to muffle her screams as she forced herself to kneel down next to his corpse. The pain at least served as a distraction for what she had to do next. His back was ripped to shreds, the blood crystallizing in the cold to look like tiny gems. She tried not to notice the flesh and bone as she checked his pockets. The cold had frozen him solid, making it harder to roll his dead weight onto his back, and each failed attempt brought her focus back to what she was doing. Her stomach twisted. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her head and gagged. Given time, her stomach settled.

  When she was ready, she patted down the many pockets of his jacket and pants. The keys were gone. Getting up was more torturous than getting down had been. Already drained and aching from the cold, she limped to his truck. She checked every storage place she could think of and still came up with nothing. All she could think was, if they were still here, if the children hadn't taken them, then they must have been dropped in the struggle. Casting her eyes over the thick snow, it occurred to her that she could waste a whole day looking for them. All with no guarantee that the truck would even start. There was no sign of the gun.

  Mark was a cop, she told herself. There is a search party organized for the children. Surely, someone will come out here, eventually. She checked the sky again. Clouds were gathering fast, dulling the once blinding sun into a spot of light against the gray blanket. Too new to the region, she couldn't make any defined judgment of the time, but it seemed that midday had passed. Someone should have come by now.

  If they had, it would have taken more than a passing glance for them to notice Mark’s body in the snow. Or his head at her door. They wouldn't have just left after something like that. What if they don’t come at all? Or if they don’t come until night? She played with the idea of heading to Peter's again. There was the possibility that there was another car she hadn't seen before. But the throb in her leg promised that she wouldn't make it on foot. Not before nightfall, her mind taunted. Maybe if she could find a hose, she could siphon the gas from Mark's truck to the snowmobile. Would the dogs run beside? What about Echo and Nugget?

  Her head snapped up to the sounds of the dogs growling. Casting her eyes across the yard, she expected to see the children standing amongst the pristine snow. Staring her down with their bottomless eyes. Instead, she found that some of the dogs had taken to pawing and nipping at Mark's corpse.

  “Stop it!” she bellowed as she lumbered forward, clapping her hands, and flinging her arms wide.

  It was enough to deter them. At least for now. Ruby had to keep a sharp eye on him as she struggled to pull the heavy food bag free. All the while, she couldn’t suppress the thought that she was next. How much will be left when someone finally comes? A hand maybe. A foot. They’d eat my stomach first. She shoved the thoughts from her mind as she gave up maneuvering the bag. The pain in her leg helped to keep her thoughts at bay as she retrieved the knife. She stabbed open the sack and let the dogs eat their fill where it lay. Watching them gorge themselves, she cast her eyes back to Mark. You shouldn’t move a body at a crime scene, she told herself. It was followed quickly by a sharper thought. No one is going to believe me anyway. Ignoring the pain in her hand, she grabbed his arms and dragged his sizeable bulk towards the tent.

  Sweat trailed down her face as she finally got him inside. Setting him on his back, she tried to cross his arms over his chest. His frozen limbs refused to move. Not able to give him even that much dignity, she forced herself to endure collecting his head, and placed it by his body. Fussing with his clothes, she bit back her tears as she tried to make him look somewhat peaceful. He died because of you.

  “They killed him,” she snapped aloud. With the last of her convictions, she added. “I’m not dying here.”

  Hurling herself back onto her feet, she limped to the shed and ripped it apart, searching every corner and hiding place where a hose could be stored. She found nothing. Mark’s truck. The van. The cabin. The dogs were still eating when she stormed back into the tent. She tore the boxes apart and flung their contents aside but there was no hose. There was nothing. Broken, she staggered out of the tent.

  Her frantic pursuit had taken longer than she thought. Or perhaps the promise of the coming storm was about to be a reality. Either way, when she stepped outside she found that the sky had darkened considerably. And no one had come, the bitter voice in her head whispered. What if the children went into town? What if there was no one left to know or care that she was out here? She gripped the railing with both hands as she struggled to keep the floodgates of her panic closed. There wasn’t enough gas to run the generator for the night. There would be barely enough to keep a fire lit.

  The knowledge pressed down on her shoulders and she slumped against the railing. She didn't know what else she could do. Helplessness built in her chest, mixing with her pain and fatigue until she couldn't contain it all. Tears burned her eyes before swiftly freezing against her lashes. How long would it take to cut wood? Even as she thought about it, she couldn’t decide if it would even be worth it. Perhaps freezing to death was a better way to go. It seemed peaceful when given the alternative.

  Angrily wiping her cheek, she forced down her rising panic and self-pity. I’m not dying here. She glanced back into the tent, trying to find a spot she might have missed. Then she noticed the harnesses. They're sled dogs. Limping back in, she stripped the material from the walls and dumped them in a pile outside of the tent. It was hard to find where they had stored the sleds for the winter, harder still to drag it out into the yard. She had never harnessed a dog, never run a sled, and her inexperience made her process slow. After a few failed attempts with an increasingly impatient Bannock, she headed back into the tent and ripped the pictures off of the wall. Using them as a reference, sh
e mimicked the way the straps looped and secured around the dogs.

  The front of the sled had a few dozen ropes and clips that all seemed to lead nowhere. She clipped them onto the dogs. The ropes all twisted up on themselves as the dogs lurched and staggered. She was struggling with Snow when the lead dog yelped. At the command, the attached dogs bolted forward. The sled barreled against her legs, tossing her back and making her tumble over it as it continued on. All the dogs yet to be harnessed raced up to play and taunt the others. In the chaos, Ruby had time to get to her feet and fling herself onto the back of the sled. They raced forward as she struggled to work the reins. At the last moment, the dogs turned at a sharp angle to avoid the fence. The sled skidded out of control and cracked against it. Ruby's spine struck one of the heavy wood planks before she slipped through a gap and was dumped onto the snow.

  Chapter 13

  Get up.

  The thought came through the haze in Ruby's mind and pushed at her senses. She didn't want to. A deep cold had seeped into her bones, dulling the throbbing ache she knew would return the instant she made the slightest shift. Flecks of snow burned against her exposed skin as a wet tongue licked across her cheek. A few strands of her hair covered her face, fluttering softly in the growing breeze. She peeled her eyes open and blinked into the darkened air. With a slight whine, a dog nuzzled her again, forcing her to raise her head.

  The movement was slow and small, but it still felt like her skull was splitting in two. She gripped her head with one hand and pressed at her temple. The splitting roar ebbed into constant ringing. Slowly, she took it all in, trying to guess how much time had passed. The thick sheet of clouds contained the sunset, making the sky darken rather than painting it with different colors. Shadows were creeping up with the cold. Night was closing in fast, but she had no idea how long she had left.