by Matt Ryan
Bull barked.
“Shh,” he said and glanced up at the second-story window.
He followed the trodden path leading to the edge of the forest, squinting into the sunrays shooting over the top of the trees. A cool breeze swept over the field and he watched the grass sway. Holding out his hands, he let the overgrown grass graze his palms. When they reached the edge of the clearance, he stopped and stared at the forest, building up nerve.
Joey kicked the ground and ran his hand through his hair. Bull sat down and gazed up at him, cocking his head.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t ya?”
Bull had seen him do this every time they got to the clearing, only to turn back. He looked at his house, thinking of sizzling bacon with eggs and an English muffin. No, he had to see what was in Watchers Woods.
“Let’s do this,” he said.
Bull wagged his tail.
As he breached the woodlands, he crunched his head and shoulders together, tensing his body. Keeping a steady pace for over a minute, he finally stopped and relaxed. The thick canopy cast a deep shadow over the forest floor, while the dense trees and foliage made it difficult to see beyond thirty feet. He stepped forward and a fallen branch cracked under his foot. He noticed the lack of other sounds—no birds chirping, no squirrels rustling about, no leaves swishing.
Bull nudged him with his nose.
“Okay, let’s keep going. Just keep an eye out.”
He followed his dog deeper into the forest, trying not to blink, afraid to miss a clue. There was nothing but oak trees and bushes.
Hairs rose on Bull’s back. Joey knelt down, placed a hand on his stiff body and focused on the direction the dog faced.
“What’s the—”
His dog barked and bolted ahead. Joey startled and chased after him.
“Slow down,” Joey yelled, jumping over a fallen tree, struggling to keep him in sight. After a few minutes, he caught up to him sniffing around a small clearing.
“What’s gotten into you?”
He watched Bull slow his methodical path around the fallen trees, sniffing a place and then moving on. Joey studied the fallen trees. They lined up, as if someone had set them in place. Bull dug on a spot and he moved toward him, trying to pull him back. This was when Bull pulled something free from the soil. He pulled the garbage from his mouth—a cracked, red plastic plate with dirt stuck to the bottom. He shook the dirt loose and tossed it to the ground. Continuing the search, he looked around and saw a row of bushes, almost like a hedge, nearby.
Bull sniffed the thick hedge line, stopped, and stuck his head into it. Then, he barked and pushed through, disappearing from sight.
“Not again,” he muttered and chased after him. The branches scraped his arms as he pushed through the bushes and came into a clearing. “What the hell, Bull?”
The hair on Bull’s back stood up, and he growled at a stone in the center of the circular clearing.
“What is it?” Joey held out a hand and stepped closer. Bull turned toward him, but looked past him, growling. Joey spun around thinking someone would be there.
“Stop it. There’s no one there.” He spoke harsher than he wanted and Bull’s ears lowered.
Joey knelt next to him, patted the back of his neck and looked around the open space.
The trees formed a dome over the circle, but the precision of it looked unnatural. Pacing under the curved canopy, he stopped next to the stone in the center.
The stone jutted from the ground, reaching to the height of his knees. It seemed out of place, as if put there purposely, in the center of the clearing.
He bent over and studied the top of the beige stone. Fingertip-size divots pitted the surface. He rubbed his hand over the rough surface and the stone hummed. Yanking his arm back, he frowned. There was no explanation for the sound, so he stepped back from the stone.
Bull growled at it.
The humming sound grew louder, like a slow rumble growing in speed. A few leafs stacked at the base of the stone shook and tumbled away. He backed up until he hit the shrub line. He turned and pushed through, keeping the shrubs separated long enough for Bull to make it through. After a few seconds, he found a thin spot to see through. Everything in him told him to run, get away from the stone, listen to your dad but he had to know what this was.
Bull whimpered.
He kept his gaze on the stone.
Joey blinked and a man dressed in all black was suddenly standing in the circle. Stumbling backward, Joey barely kept himself from falling. The man turned in his direction and he froze, hoping the man didn’t see him. Bull matched his stillness.
Behind the man, a small silver animal stepped away from the stone. The creature sniffed the air, a dagger hanging from its belt. It bared its pointy teeth. Joey swallowed hard and felt his hands shaking. He breathed hard through his mouth and felt his whole body starting to shake from the fear.
The creature took a step toward him and sniffed the air, looking around and blinking his large yellow eyes. It placed a slender hand on its dagger.
Joey’s body was screaming for him to run, but he felt as if he was stuck to the ground. He didn’t even want to move his arm. Everything told him not to let this man and his silver companion know he was there, but they were moving closer. It wouldn’t be long before something broke free, either Bull or they would finally see his silhouette among the foliage.
“You got something?” the man asked.
“Yes,” the thing hissed out. “They’re here.”
“You sure?” the man sighed and lifted a tablet to his face. “You’ve been wrong before.”
“One is close,” the creature slurred. It inhaled again, walking toward Joey. Its yellow eyes passed over the hedge.
He had to use all his will to move his leg back a half step, then the next. Slow and easy, he told himself.
The silver creature sniffed and moved closer. Its slender fingers grasped the dagger at its side and pulled it out of its sheath. The dirt stirred under its bare feet as it took a few steps, tasting the air with each inhale.
A crow cawed in the sky and the silver thing turned to the bird.
Joey looked at Bull and his brown eyes stared back at him. He wanted to project a single thought into his dog’s brain. Run!
He turned, dug his foot into the dead leaves, and took off toward home. Bull bolted ahead in a second. The creature behind him hissed and he heard a rustling of leaves.
Don’t look back.
He ran as fast as he could, jumping over rocks and fallen trees. Water splashed as he stomped through the shallow creek.
After a few minutes, the muscles in his legs balked at the assault. A few minutes more and he spotted the light shining over the clearance. He kept pace and ran out of the forest. Half way through the field, he slowed and looked back.
Nothing.
He walked sideways, expecting the silver creature to leap from the shadows of the forest. After a few sidesteps, he jogged the rest of the way his house. Reaching the front porch, he stopped and paced, staring at the forest in the distance.
Bull sat at the bottom of the stairs and with his head cocked to the side, watched his master walk back and forth.
“You saw that, right?”
The dog stood and wagged his tale. Joey kept glancing at the forest. It had to be real . . . but how could it? People don’t appear out of nowhere and small silver creatures definitely do not exist. It had to be a trick of his mind.
He glanced up at the second window and smelled the air for his mom’s morning cooking but only came up with the smell of dirt and pollen kicked up from the wind. They had to be sleeping. He knew well enough not to disturb his dad from sleep, let alone to tell him he just gone and done the very thing he told him not to do.
Joey jogged into the house. In a few minutes, he came back out without the guns. He had to tell his friends what happened. He needed someone to laugh at him and tell him he was crazy.
“Bull, get under the h
ouse porch, okay?” He glanced back at the forest and sighed. “Dad will protect you from anything, but you better not go to that forest again.” He pointed to the forest. “No.”
His dog eyes gleamed with intelligence but not enough to show him he had any clue what he was talking about.
“Go on,” Joey pointed to the house and Bull trotted under the front porch.
Looking at the clock on his phone, he knew he was going to be late for school if he didn’t move. He jumped on his old bike and pedaled hard down the driveway.
THE BACK TIRE KICKED UP puffs of dust from the driveway as he picked up speed. Relaxing his grip on the handlebars, he slowed his pace, sat on the seat and turned onto the dirt road. It was a four-mile ride to school. He wanted to push it, but after the run back to his house, he had to pace himself.
Under most circumstances, he enjoyed the ride to school. Even as every other kid his age, or younger, seemed to have a car to drive to school, he didn’t mind the time traveling down the unkempt dirt road. However, this morning he dared glances at the forest to his right, expecting things to appear among the yellow trees. Nothing did. He stopped looking once he got to Main Street and the dirt road changed to asphalt.
The school was a block away and the street was crowded with cars, yellow buses, and kids bustling around the drop-off zones. The first day of school was always more chaotic than usual, as parents jostled for positions at the Kiss-n-Go.
After crossing the street, he dodged a couple of kids, and then slid his front tire into the bike rack. The younger kids stared at him. Being eighteen and riding a bike to school was bad, but doing so on a bike that looked like he had pulled it from a dumpster made it embarrassing. He slapped the cable around his front tire, fastening it to the rack.
The school held grades from kindergarten to twelfth; at full capacity, it housed no more than two hundred students. He watched the nervous faces of kids as their parents sent them on their way. They must be thinking about being beat up, picked on, trashed-canned, or many other first-day fears. As a senior, he didn’t have any of these first-day anxieties.
Joey scanned the nearby faces, looking for the Six. He needed to tell someone what he saw. Most of the kids were piling into the front doors. Had the warning bell rung already?
“Joey,” Hank yelled from across the front yard, his large size making him easy to spot. They made their way toward each other. “Been waiting for you. Thought you were going to be late,” he said.
“Well, I have a story for you.” Joey pulled out his cellphone to check the time. “We’ve got a minute to get to class.”
Mrs. Nires didn’t care if he’d seen silver creatures in the forest. She would give him detention if they were one minute late. His after-school plans were forming in his mind and he didn’t want to spend his first day in detention.
The school was a single-story building, and the wood siding’s paint peeled off in large sections, revealing the aging cedar planks. Red flakes clung to the brown shake roof in patches. The cracked concrete steps leading to the front door tilted to the left and the handrail shook loosely as he grasped it.
The double doors stood open to the main hallway of the school. Lockers lined each side of the hall, broken up by the classroom doors. Students bustled in every direction, making last minute decisions in their lockers or speaking a quick word to a friend.
Joey always liked the first day of school—something about the open-ended feeling—as if anything could happen. He nodded to some, and said “hi” to others as he hurried to class.
“Hey, Joey,” the younger classmen said. She positioned herself in front of her friend and clasped her folder over her chest as she gazed at him from under her lashes.
Joey smiled to her and searched for her name. “Hello.” He could see his classroom door behind her, but stayed, not wanting to be rude.
“Ok, well see ya.” The two girls giggled and ran away.
“Day one and you’ve got a harem brewing.” Hank came up beside him, shaking his head.
“They’re just saying hi.”
“Didn’t say hi to me.”
A pretty girl made eye contact with Joey as she strode by. “Hey, Joey.”
“Hey.” He watched her walk away.
Hank gave him an I-told-you-so expression. “You’re just too sexy, Joey Foust.” He batted his eyes at him and Joey jokingly pushed him into the lockers.
Rushing into the class as the bell rung, he spotted his friends sitting in a cluster near the windows. Lucas waved at him and told the kid attempting to sit next to him to move on.
Joey didn’t look at the teacher and quickly took his seat; detention would ruin his plans. Poly sat in front of him and turned to give him smile. Samantha sat next to Poly in her own desk. He took a quick breath and wanted to blurt out everything he’d seen to them right then. He opened his mouth and saw Mrs. Nires rise from her desk.
“Miss, put away that cellphone.” She pointed at Julie.
“Busted,” Lucas whispered to Julie.
She sneered at him and put her phone on her lap.
Joey closed his mouth. Mrs. Nires wouldn’t have allowed the outburst building in him. He swallowed it down and glared at the clock—a few hours until lunch.
The teacher wrote Mrs. Nires in large cursive letters across the dry erase board. She gave the morning orientation and discussed how it was going to be a great year. For the next two hours, she laid out the curriculum for the year. Once finished, she had them get out their U.S. history books and read about what had led up to the civil war.
He wasn’t much of a student—nothing like Julie—but he usually had a deep curiosity of the past.
Staring at the words on the page, he pretended to read, but all he thought of was yellow eyes. It had to be real. Would his friends even believe such a wild story?
He watched the second hand move around the clock. Closing the history book and rubbing his eyes, his stomach growled—two minutes until lunchtime. He wanted to get to the cafeteria first and claim their table. Each year, some under classmen would mistakenly sit at their table. He needed that table if he was going to have any privacy with his friends.
The bell rang for lunch and he hurried to the cafeteria, not waiting for anyone. First in line for the taco/pizza cart, he bought two slices of pizza and a soda, taking his food to their usual table. It was the ideal corner spot with a view of both the outside and the cafeteria. Preston Six was carved into a spot on the table. Each of them took a turn carving in a letter or two.
With the first slice down, his stomach felt better. His friends found their way in and sat down with their trays of food or home-packed lunches. He watched Samantha stride across and take a seat near him. They locked eyes and he smiled.
She grinned and covered her mouth with her hand. She glanced at their friends. He didn’t think she told anyone about the kiss.
Lucas talked with Hank as they sat down next to him. Julie and Poly sat next to Samantha as they filled their table. Joey decided to wait and pick his moment.
“Did you guys know the school went digital this year?” Julie asked. She smiled and held her cellphone. Not that you would ever catch her without it. It was her spirit animal, and she’d probably die if it was detached from her.
“Yeah, thanks for the update there, Julie. They added a new urinal in the men’s bathroom, but I was saving that groundbreaker for a dull moment.” Lucas leaned back.
“Check this out.” Julie held her phone out for them to see. She leaned and whispered, “I hacked their system last week. I have total control over the bells, intercoms—”
“Can you change my grades?” Hank interrupted. Day one and the poor guy was already worried about his grades.
Joey would make sure Hank got the grades to graduate, even if he and the rest of the six had to write every report for him.
“I’d think they’d notice something like that, but we can have a bit of fun with it. Watch this.” Julie held her phone to her mouth and whispered in
to it. Joey couldn’t hear the words, but her mischievous look as she pressed the button gave him all sorts of ideas of what she had just done.
The intercom crackled to life and the speaker blurted out in a deep, modulated voice, “Attention. Can a Lucas Pratt please come to the front office? I repeat, Lucas Pratt, to the front office. Your mom is here with a pair of underwear and your anti-diarrhea medication.”
The cafeteria broke out in laughter, many pointing at Lucas.
He stood up and waved his hands toward himself as if saying, “Bring it on.” The laughter slowed to a few chuckles and he sat down.
“Oh, no you didn’t.” Lucas said, leaping across the table for Julie’s phone.
She dodged his grab.
“Come on. You have to show me how to use that.” He shook his head and his eyes twitched. “There are a billion awesome things I could do. You’re just going to waste it.”
“You’d abuse it, and you know it. If you can come up with a written request, I may entertain the idea.” Julie held the phone against her chest and gave Lucas a smug look.
“A written request?” Lucas plopped back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“No, really, can you change my grades?” Hank asked again.
“No, Hank, I can’t.”
“Are you Julie?” A different voice drew Joey’s attention away from their circle. A young man he didn’t recognize—maybe a junior—swept his gaze over the table, and then locked his attention on Julie. “I heard you’re the resident computer queen?”
“Well, I guess my reputation has preceded me.”
He stuffed his hands in his pocket and cocked his head. “I was wondering if maybe you could help me with an app I’ve been working on.”
“She’s busy, pal.” Lucas slid his taco plate to the middle of the table and leaned back in his chair.
The new guy didn’t back down. “I think she can talk for herself, and the name’s Brent.”
Lucas rolled his eyes and mouthed the word “Brent” under his breath. Joey reveled in the banter and leaned back in his chair to see what would unfold. Samantha and Poly raised eyebrows at each other.
