Part One
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I inched down the deserted street. It seemed the already miniscule place had become a ghost town. The sky darkened with every step I took. Doors were bolted and windows latched securely. The breeze was stronger than when I’d fallen asleep, and I pulled my black, cotton jacket more securely around me. Something had happened while I dozed in the safe branches of the twisted old tree. Something more than the strange dream which still knocked at my mind's door.
The boy had been in the tree with me in that dream, something I’d never have allowed when I was awake. This was my alone time, for God's sake. What the hell was he doing disturbing me? He was edging closer, eyes gleaming with a strange, metallic glow. His irises were the color of metal with light on it. His hair was like dark chocolate and was uncombed. He didn’t wear clothes that teenage boys usually wore. His were leather and appeared hand stitched with thick black thread.
He seemed a little surprised to see me awake. I glared at him, which surprised him more. It was only dream and in those I was free to speak and act without fear of being judged. I knocked his hand away from where it hovered over my neck, no doubt to shake me awake, and snapped at him.
“Find your own tree,” I growled, my voice somewhat less menacing than intended, clouded with sleep as it was. “This one’s occupied.”
He seemed torn between annoyance and intrigue. Well there was nothing interesting about me, not anymore. Ever since we moved to this town nothing fun ever happened. I craved the danger of the city, the pulse of it in my veins.
“What’s your name?” the boy interrupted.
It was unfair to hate him for that, but I did. He couldn't know how every daydream I had about New York was like escaping hell and floating to heaven. Eyes narrowed slightly. I shrugged. “If I tell you will you get out of my tree?”
“I suppose,” he consented. There was a definite note of amusement. Stupid hicks out here thought they were so clever.
“Lauren. Lauren Oscar. Now get out.” There was a cold rush of wind and the smell of rot somewhere nearby. Then I was snapping awake to empty branches and a feeling of apprehension that told me to get away from the forest.
I saw a face in Mr. Hutchinson’s bakery window but it disappeared too quickly for me to catch its attention. Where had my parents gone? They’d been at the ice cream shop, but I passed it by and saw no sign of them. However, there were ice cream puddles on the pavement with cones sticking out. One was chipped mint, my father’s favorite. I shivered and struggled against the panic rising in my stomach.
Lauren, panic never helps. My father’s voice echoed so clearly in my mind. He was safe because he had to be and I wouldn’t panic because there was no point. Until I could find the cause of the queer silence in Sheridan, panic wouldn’t help.
I seated myself on the curb with sweating palms picking up grit. This was probably some stupid town joke. I hated Sheridan from the first day, two and a half months ago, that I’d moved in. It was ridiculously secluded, surrounded on all sides by old growth forest that was under government protection. The rituals, protocol, and festivals for a town of 700, now 703, were so different from the busy streets I was used to. I missed the blaring car horns and the rude gestures out car windows. I even missed the headlines about murder and robbings. Some vicious part of me found them fascinating. I'd been considered a little violent back home but compared to the old fashioned mindset here, I might as well have been an alien.
Sheridan maintained continual quiet every day all day. It had a respectful air to it, teetering on fear. I’d always thought that the fear was just an unwillingness to accept change, harmless and droll. But now I wondered. Where was everyone?
“They’re coming!” A shrieking voice announced. I leapt to my feet, blue skirt swirling around my ankles. I snapped my head to the direction of the noise and managed to catch a glimpse of a small child running towards some of the further houses. He vanished from view behind the butcher shop and his shrieking halted. I hoped his mother gave him a spanking. My pulse pounded in my temples and I laughed shakily.
I almost followed him to ask what in the name of sweet civilization was going on, but I decided against it, shaking my head. Little boys here were more likely to throw rocks at me and pull up my skirt than be helpful. That was another problem with this town. There were only a handful of boys who were 18 like me, and the girls outnumbered them. They were all so fiercely protective of the guys, like I was a monster out to steal them away. Sometimes I felt so hormonal I could have screamed. It wasn't normal to be that into boys, or so I was told. I think most of the pregnant teens in new York would have disagreed.
Instead of trailing after the noisy kid, I moved over to the public bathrooms. There were no locks on the outside doors so I knew I could get in. Even that tiny amount of shelter would feel more secure than being alone on the abandoned streets. I needed to find my parents. They would know what was happening.
The kid had said, “They’re coming.” Who were “they”? I was willing to bet money it was some kind of folk band or festival performers. This town was all about community entertainment. Just last week we had an apple festival that took up three consecutive days. Three days of wasted time, in my opinion.
It must have been outside entertainment. That explained why everyone had locked their houses down. The townsfolk trusted strangers with their possessions like they trusted wolves with lambs. They were probably all gathered somewhere on the other edge of town, enjoying the festivities. It was lucky for me I hadn’t panicked.
I walked into the women’s bathroom and was surprised by how low the lights had gotten. Electricity had never been that good out here, but this was ridiculous. The small windows let in just enough light that I could see where I was going.
I ran my hand along the hideous peach tiles and stood at a sink near a window. I’d clean up and go find the town and my parents. I checked my appearance in the mirror; shoulder length brown hair with black low-lights half grown out. There was no beauty shop in Sheridan. My mother had hacked away some chunky bangs that cast shadows over my grey eyes. I was also unspeakably white without the tanning beds I’d grown accustom to in the city. It was enough to make one shudder. no wonder none of the red cheeked, sparkling eyed boys here looked at me twice. I was like some kind of goth child.
I looked presentable enough normally, if a bit wan. I tucked my hair behind my ears and trickled water into the sink to splash on my face. I could hear my father’s voice chiding me for my earlier worry and I smiled a little. My imagination was outrageous. I made myself sick with fear sometimes. . . or with anger.
Something caught my eye from the corner of the mirror and I turned to see a sharpened stick rolling gently on the equally ugly floor tiles. I bent to pick it up, a little surprised to see movement from the stall door. Whoever decided that teal toilet stalls worked well with peach should have been murdered.
“Hello?” I said, happy to have found someone who could direct me. At least now I wouldn’t have to wander around town.
The door swung slowly open and I tucked the stick at my side, moving against the wall so they could reach the sink. The person who shuffled out of the stall had never lived in this town. I questioned whether or not they had even been alive at all.
The woman’s hair was matted and thick as an animal pelt. Her skin was caked with mud and something that looked sticky. I only had a second to gasp before her head jerked over to me and I could not help but scream. My reflection in the mirror hollered with me as I stared into glazed, glowing eyes that narrowed in my direction. Foam was dripping from her mouth which housed teeth belonging to a wildcat.
Behind her, a liquid leaked between the tiles and I shuddered to think what the source was. The woman seemed as shocked by my presence as I was by hers, but she recovered quickly. With a manic grin she reached out shaking, eager hands with fingers bent to claws in my direction. Without thinking, I plunged the stick into her chest and we both froze. The woman’s eye twitched once and she looked down. I twisted the stick,eliciting a howl of pain, and shoved away from her. She sank to the floor, fluid as dark and thick as tar seeped around the wound as she fell and her eyes sunk down into her skull.
I stared, trembling against the wall. My hand was still outstretched as if it was holding the stick. I retched and swung into the stall without thinking. Draped across the toilet was old Mrs. Davis, her fierce blue eyes open wide and glaring at me as though I’d been the one who’d ripped her throat open. Her hand was clenched in the same manner mine had been, as though she was still holding the sharpened stick.
I vomited all over the floor. I had to get out of the bathroom. The need to be away from the two bodies nearly consumed me, but panic never helped. There were probably more of the creatures outside, and that was why the town was locked up.
“Go check it out,” a masculine voice hissed from outside the bathroom. I almost had a heart attack all over again. Whoever was talking wasn't here yet, but he was coming. I reached reluctantly down to the monstrous woman’s corpse and wrenched the stick from her. It slid out like a knife through butter. I skittered to the far stall as quietly as I could, locked the door and climbed atop the toilet. I hunched over, staring at the two feet of open space between the floor and the bottom of the door.
“Why? Screams are to be expected. That’s what Jaric said! If we investigate every scream we’ll spoil everyone’s fun. Let the pigs squeal before we make bacon, Ted.”
“All you think about is your stomach, May. Just check it out. I think Heather chased one in there a while ago. She likes to eat slowly.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you at the ice cream shop. I’ve been looking forward to some of that all day. Is the owner still alive?”
“Somehow I think we’ll manage to scoop our own without him. Besides, you know human food doesn’t agree with us anymore. It’ll turn sour once it hits your stomach.” The male voice was much softer now.
“All you do is nag,” I heard May grumble as she entered the bathroom. “Sweet baby’s meat! Heather?” May gasped. Her voice shook with anger and disbelief as she noticed the monster’s corpse. I felt a muscle twitch in my leg and whatever was left of my lunch quavered dangerously. How many monsters were there? These ones spoke like people.
A snarl vibrated through the air and I heard May slink to my stall. My breathing became noisy and I let loose a sob of terror at May’s next words.
“Come out little piggy, wherever you are. Dinner’s on and you’re the main course.”
My ear shattering scream bounced once more of the walls as May’s head popped under the stall door to glare at me with the same glowing eyes I’d seen before. I saw the shock cross her face as I slammed my foot down on her head and blood erupted from her nose. It was the same viscous substance as before but this creature only smiled as the flesh healed. In last desperate attempt I thrust the stick down into her eyes and heard the sickening crunch as it sunk through her eye socket and into her brain. She collapsed as easily as her companion did. Wood was like poison to these creatures.
I knew that I needed to leave now. Two of the creatures were dead and the rest of the group was bound to come looking for them when May failed to show for ice cream. I leapt quickly over the body, remembering at the last moment to grab the stick. I slipped out the bathroom door with caution, my muscles tighter than rope as I moved like a shadow towards the only other place I knew to go- home.
Author's note- part two is now in my portfolio if you'd like to finish the story.
