The Perdition Tales

Screams, Part Two

Part Two: The Woods

The forest was quiet that night. At least at first. For the first few hours, there was an eerie silence, a total noiselessness that made the visitors nervous. Sage stayed up for awhile, laying in his sleeping bag with his dark eyes open, staring straight ahead, making sure no one could get out. He was adamant about the group being quiet as well. “If we’re lucky, you won’t even hear them,” he told them when they asked about his behavior and his rules. The others eventually gave up trying to get him to answer and lay back in their own sleeping bags, listening to…nothing.

Rachel slept uneasily in that darkness. Her dreams were haunted by memories of Joe, of their first date, the first time their eyes connected, drawing them in for their first kiss. He was close to her in her dream, floating in the darkness with her. But there was something from far off, a distant scream so weak that Rachel wasn’t even sure she heard it. But Joe heard it, and he turned away, gliding into the gloom beyond. Rachel tried to follow but she couldn’t. She couldn’t keep up with him. He was leaving her behind, carried away by the distant scream. “Come back!” she called to him, but he didn’t hear her. “Come back, Joe! Where are you going? Please…”

“Rachel, wake up,” Brian’s voice issued through the shadows. There was a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her out of her sleep. “Wake up, Rachel,” Brian repeated. At last, Rachel gave up her pursuit and opened her eyes. She barely saw anything, it was so dark, but she could just barely make out the form of Brian next to her. “Rachel, you were having a nightmare,” Brian explained when he realized she was awake. “You were yelling in your sleep.”

“Keep her quiet!” Sage whispered harshly. “Don’t breathe a word!”

“Why?” Anne asked. “What’s-”

“Ssh!” Sage cut her off. “They’re coming!”

Seconds later, there was a shriek from far off in the woods. Rachel recognized it immediately: it was the scream from her dreams! She sat up and tried to climb out of her sleeping bag but Brian stopped her. “Sage said to stay in the tent,” he reminded her. The screams grew closer and then multiplied. Soon, more and more screams seemed to echo through the woods, the terrible cries coming from all directions. Rachel could hear heavy footsteps romping through the clearing, with the heads attached roaring their intense screams and cries up to the harvest moon. “They sound like they need help!” Rachel said.

“Yes,” Sage answered her solemnly. “They do, but only at our ultimate expense. And I intend to live a bit longer.”

“We need weapons!” Chris whispered in a panic. “They’ll find the tent! We’re right out in the open!”

“Yes,” Sage said again. “They will find us. But they cannot touch us. Not as long as we stay in the tent. They won’t cross the water.”

They stayed in the tent for the rest of the night, enduring the harsh screams of the circling banshees. They heard the mysterious screamers time and again come to the point where the makeshift moat was erected and stop, as if afraid of crossing the tiny stream. But their screams were carried across, piercing the ears of Sage’s group, their relentless cries never ceasing…

Morning dawned to find the group in nearly catatonic states. After a few hours, the moon had crossed the sky and the screams drifted away, as if they came and went with it. After that, there had been silence for a few hours, but no one was able to sleep. Even Sage, who was obviously aware of what the screaming things were, couldn’t seem to evade the fear-riddled insomnia. The first patches of sunlight began to appear, but Sage still kept everyone inside the tent, just in case there was anything that stayed behind.

When the sun was fully up and the clearing was brightly lit, Sage finally allowed everyone to leave. They filed out slowly, the screams still echoing inside their own heads. “I’ll explain soon,” Sage said. “First, we need to find something to eat.”

They ate in silence after that. Everyone was beyond the point of exhaustion but still, rest evaded them. They could scarcely close their eyes without being bombarded with a swarm of imaginative monstrosities that could make those screams and pound those mysterious, night-time footsteps. But at last, it was Brian that spoke, forming the words that floated verbatim on the minds of each and every camper. “Where’d you get the food?”

“What the hell were those things?” Chris burst out. “Those…they were like…”

“Like banshees,” Sage finished for them. “I don’t actually know what they really are. I doubt any living person in this town does, either. You can call them banshees, reapers, ghosts, whatever you want. But a name doesn’t change what they are.”

“So you brought us out here knowing that they would be here, too?” Chris asked.

“You asked me to,” Sage responded. “And Deputy Russell did warn you.”

“He knows about them, too?” Rachel asked. “Is that why no one’s allowed to camp out here?”

“The police don’t know what’s out here,” Sage said. “They only know that something is out here. As far as I’m aware, I may actually be the foremost authority on these creatures. And I know next to nothing.”

“So what? You wanted to examine them up close?” Chris asked. “Were you hoping to catch one for the tourist industry? Did you just use us as an excuse to come out here?”

“Safety in numbers,” Anne whispered to herself. “He didn’t want to come alone.”

“No, no,” Sage explained. “It’s none of that. The truth is…well…I wanted to find the boy. Uh…Joe. This town has lost its faith in me. I wanted to show them that I’m still worth something, that I can still do good here. If I go into the woods and return with the missing boy, then-”

“Then you’ll be a hero,” Brian said.

“It’s more than that,” Sage continued. “You, each of you, have your whole lives ahead of you. You have years and decades to build yourselves a future. I just…I mean, I’m sixty-three years old. I need to know…”

“You didn’t want to prove yourself to King’s End,” Anne said quietly. “You wanted to prove to yourself that you’re not just an old man.” Sage sighed, slumped his shoulders and nodded.

“So what can you tell us about these things?” Brian asked. “What would have happened if we’d have walked outside.

“You’d have died, most certainly,” Sage answered.

“They’re man-eaters?” Brian inquired for surety.

“In a way,” Sage went on. “Different people say different things. Some people say they simply suck all the life out of you, feeding on the energy. Others say they like to eat human hearts. Some say it’s the intestines. I actually found a book one time that talked about people having their kidneys taken, but I don’t think it was related to these. And some say that it’s other organs, like the liver or-”

“So we’ve established that they kill people,” Chris interrupted. “Let’s move on, please. Why do they scream? Why do they only come at night?”

“And what was with the trench around the campsite?” Rachel asked. “How come they never crossed it?”

“They’re afraid of water,” Sage said. “I’ve studied them enough to know that. You’ll never find one in the swamp, and I have a theory that if you hit them with a squirt gun, they’ll go away.”

“So did you bring any?” Chris asked.

“I have six decades of memory stored up here,” Sage said, tapping his right temple. “Apparently, there wasn’t room for squirt guns. But it’s only a theory, besides. Luckily, the moat worked. That was a bit of an experiment. I’m not sure what I would have done if it had failed.”

There was a silent moment when everyone stared at Sage. “Thank-you for that,” Brian said sarcastically. “So the screams and the night time? I take it they’re nocturnal.”

“Their appearance is related to the harvest moon,” Sage said. “I’ve been monitoring them for years and I’ve correlated all of their attacks on the days of the harvest moon. A friend of mine from town - a fellow by the name of George - actually survived an attack once. He told me that they can’t even exist when the light of the harvest moon isn’t touching them. He said he hid under a tree that blocked all of the light and one of the creatures vanished as it went under after him.”

“Your friend, George, actually survived all on his own?” Rachel asked. Sage nodded. “That means Joe could have survived, too!”

“Don’t get too excited,” Sage said. “Now listen, if you want, I can take you to meet George. He still lives in town, only as far central as he can. But I want to be back long before dark.”

“We’re spending another night out here?” Anne asked, sounding a bit nervous.

“I have some moon and star charts in my car,” Sage explained. “And they all tell me that tonight is the last night of the harvest moon. If studying these things can give us a hint as to where Joe is, then we’ll have to be here tonight. After tonight, Joe’s trail will probably go cold.”

“I think we should look around the mansion first,” Rachel said. “For all we know, he could be hiding out there.”

“Is that okay with everyone?” Sage asked. Everyone nodded. “Okay. But do not go near the cemetery, and stay together. We’ll look there for about an hour and then head back to town to speak with George.”

Mane Manor was creepy on the inside. At least, that’s what Rachel thought. Sage had led them carefully around the cemetery, making sure not to go any closer to it than was necessary. When asked why, Sage only maintained the story of the disappearing corpse and the grave desecrations. “Graveyards are dangerous places in this town,” Sage told them. “And the one by the mansion is the worst.”

“What is it that people are afraid of?” Brian asked.

“You know how when you were a little kid, you were afraid of the bogeyman?” Sage asked. “Well, it’s kind of like that, only instead of the bogeyman, we’re wary of the graveyard folk. And in King’s End, that’s not a fear that you just grow out of. Of course,” he continued, chuckling a bit to himself. “It’s not exactly old enough for anyone to grow out of besides.”

Sage led them to the northeast wing. Though the northwest wing looked fine from the outside, the old guide assured the group that that was merely a shell, that the walls were the only thing left. “But it has a great, new skylight, and with no glass, too!” he exclaimed with another chuckle. He opened the massive doors and allowed them to file inside. Chris stayed outside to help him wedge the doors wide open, allowing light to pour in and light up the dank and dilapidated building.

“Check every room,” Rachel told them. “If Joe’s here, we’re going to find him.”

“Stick together,” Sage warned. “No one goes off alone. In a house with Mane Manor’s history, you’re bound to find something twisted and lonely if you go off by yourself. And sometimes, it may even be you.”

“No wonder you’re a tour guide,” Brian said as he looked around carefully. “You say things that sound awesome but actually mean nothing.”

“Believe what you want, but I’m here to keep you breathing,” Sage answered, his voice echoing along the musty hallways. There was old wallpaper, dark and unclear in the faint light, peeling off of the broken, holey walls. There was total silence aside from a steady drip from down one of the halls. Sage handed Brian a flashlight and he shined it down the hall, lighting up a pipe jutting from one of the walls. Water dripped from the pipe and fell through a hole rotted through the floor.

“Hey, Sage,” Rachel said. “There’s something I’ve been wondering about. Last night, before the screams, and then this morning as well, I haven’t been able to hear any wildlife. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not missing the mosquito population, but I haven’t even heard any birds or flies or anything.”

“This is a silent wood,” Sage replied. “There used to be a lot of wildlife. A few years back, this forest was loud as hell at night and early in the morning. But ever since those screamers showed up, everything’s gone silent.”

“So you think they’ve eaten everything?” Chris asked.

“Or sucked the life out of it all, perhaps,” the old man said. “Since people stopped coming into the woods, they’d have to find nutrition somehow. Or maybe everything’s just hiding, waiting for them to move on, waiting for the forest to be safe again.”

They moved on, avoiding the stairs with the massive hole in the center. There was no way of getting up to the higher floors with this staircase. The group moved over into a large room just off of the main hall. Anne moved over to a window and pulled back the shades. The curtain rod promptly broke from its wall mount and crashed to the floor, taking the curtain with it. Anne jumped back with a squeak and just barely avoided being hit with the iron bar. Light shone in through the window. Inside the room, they found an enormous dinner table with dull plates and cobwebbed silverware still sitting out. Some of the chairs had rotted through and lay in broken piles on the floor. The window was covered in webs and dust, with large cracks in the glass. Rachel moved over to the window and stared out at the distorted view of the forest. “Where are you, Joe?” she whispered to herself. But the forest remained silent, keeping its secrets from her.

Brian walked down the hallway, following the beam of his flashlight, careful to avoid the holes in the floor. From time to time, he heard the sound of motion beneath his feet, as if a crowd of rats was rushing right below him. But the vibrations felt different, as if it was something bigger moving quickly beneath the floorboards. He ignored it; it was probably just some old plumbing gone bad, rusty pipes and whatnot. The voices of the others floated down the hall; they hadn’t noticed he was gone.

There was movement up ahead. Brian tightened his grip on the flashlight and moved steadily forward, ready to use it in defense if need be. He turned a corner and the sounds of the others disappeared, eventually fading off into nothing. He turned around, hoping to try and go back to the group. But wait…was that the way he’d come? No, it was this way. No, that wasn’t right. Brian’s breathing grew louder and, with a trembling voice, he decided to try and call out. “Joe?” he called into the darkness. “Joe, it’s me, Brian. Are you there?” There was no reply. “Joe, Rachel’s here. We’re all looking for you. Are you here?” Still, no response. But there was another shadow, down at the end of the corridor. Brian followed it and found himself in a dimly lit room.

Light shone in through a cracked, blue window, streaming a blue haze upon the bookshelves lined with books. An old, leather chair stood over in one corner and there was a table covered with trinkets and useless junk. Half of a broken globe lay sitting amongst the random objects. There was a crash as the door beside the window swung closed. Someone had just run through it.

Brian rushed through, pushing the heavy door open and emerging into the bright sunlight. “Joe?” Brian called again, and this time, he could see the figure standing motionless a few dozen feet away. And there was no mistaking it: it was Joe. He was standing there, with dirt and dried mud caked into his clothes and pants. His baseball cap was low, situated just above his bend glasses. He looked like he’d been camping rough for days. But, then again, he had been. “Joe!” Brian yelled, running forward. “Joe, you’re okay!”

Joe looked at Brian and began running away, off along an old, dirt trail that led through the woods. “Joe, wait up!” Brian yelled. “It’s okay! We’re here to help you!” But Joe didn’t stop. He just continued running. Brian sprinted after him, trying to catch up, but Joe was faster than him. He was taller, with a longer stride. Eventually, the trail began to slope uphill and the chase turned into a steep climb. Brian climbed as fast as he could, slipping from time to time and injuring some of his fingers along the way. He looked up, almost blinded by the sun, to see Joe’s silhouette disappear over the edge of the cliff. About a minute later, Brian reached the same point and hauled himself up.

Brian lay on the ground for a few moments, keeping his eyes closed from the glare of the sun, trying to catch his breath. When his breathing finally slowed down, he unleashed his energy and climbed to his feet. Joe was standing with his back to him, staring off into the distance. Brian stumbled over next to him. “Joe!” Brian said. “What’s the matter with you?! It’s me, Brian! I’m here to bring you home!” Joe turned and stared at him, his mouth unmoving, his eyes bright, wide and open. But they seemed…strange to Brian. It was like…like this wasn’t Joe. At least not anymore. Something had changed in him.

Brian turned and looked around, seeing where they were. They were standing atop a cliff, at least fifty or sixty feet high. Some treetops came up beside them, adding to the beauty that Brian was seeing. He could see half of Mane Manor from up here! And he could look down at the cemetery, where he saw more and more graves that resembled the one Anne had been inspecting, dug out like craters pock marking the mansion’s private cemetery. Brian located the door that the group had entered through in the northeast wing, and he found Rachel, Anne, Chris and Sage all stumbling out of the mansion, looking around. They were looking for him. “Hey!” Brian called down, his voice magnified by the mansion and the open space, echoing down at the group. “I’m up here! I found him! He’s okay!”

There was a strange swooshing sound from behind him, amid some of the trees around the cliff. They began shaking violently, as if some large creatures were beginning to swarm up them, up toward the cliff. “What’s going on, Joe?” Brian asked, his voice failing to hide the nervousness in him. Joe remained silent as he stared Brian right in the eyes. And then, without a word, Joe placed his hand on Brian’s shoulder and shoved him off the cliff.

“He’s over here!” Rachel screamed as they all shoved their way through the thick underbrush. They had noticed Brian’s absence almost immediately, but were unable to find him inside the house; it was as if he had simply vanished. Of course, Sage hadn’t made things better when he mentioned that Mane Manor could swallow a person whole. But they had rushed around and eventually gone to check outside. They didn’t even see the cliff or that Brian was on top of it until they heard him calling for them. “I found him! He’s okay!” he’d said. But his words were barely intelligible and he could just barely be made out in the great distance. To them, he was merely a tiny figure atop a far-off cliff. But there had been someone else up there with him, someone who disappeared from view as soon as Brian fell.

The others caught up and found Rachel on her knees beside Brian. “Wha…what do we do?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Sage said, moving up beside him. Brian was laying in a pile of brush, with grass, sticks and broken branches beneath and around him. He had crashed through the canopy before landing here, clearing a hole through which light now shone down upon him like a great beam from heaven. His eyes were open but fluttering, signaling his precarious position before unconsciousness. “I told you all to stay together.”

“Let me see,” Anne said, moving closer. She moved her hands along his body, feeling different bones etching her fingers along his ribs. He winced in pain and let out a cry when her hands fell upon his neck. Rachel moved over as Anne got closer, staring intently at Brian’s neck. As gently as she could, she touched his skin. Then, she reached down and held his hand in hers. It remained motionless. “His neck’s broken.”

“Are you sure?” Chris asked.

“Yes,” Anne answered. “We can’t move him without making it worse. We need to go for help.”

“We have to stay together,” Sage said.

“If we try to move him, we could make things worse, maybe even kill him, I don’t’ know!” Anne cried. “We need someone to go for help. Send an ambulance, or a helicopter.”

“I’ll go,” Chris said.

“No,” Sage answered. “You don’t know these roads. You could get lost.”

“And I don’t know these woods,” Chris riposted. “You can keep them safe until we get back. Besides, there’s only one road that goes back to town. I remember.”

“Fine,” Sage said after a moment of struggle. “But don’t go alone.”

“I should stay here,” Anne said. “That way, I can keep an eye-”

“Go with Chris,” Rachel said. “Let me stay with Brian.”

“But Rachel-” Anne began.

“Please,” Rachel cut her off. “Please, just…do what I say.” Anne paused a moment and looked around nervously. She wasn’t comfortable in these woods without Sage. At last, she sighed and ran off with Chris.

“Rachel, he’s-” Sage began, but Rachel cut him off.

“Please, be quiet,” she told him. “I just want to be here, okay?” Sage relented and backed up, where he could keep an eye on their surroundings. Rachel moved closer and looked into Brian’s eyes. He was still there, but not totally. He didn’t know what was happening right now…

He didn’t know what was happening. Neither of them did. The party inside was dying and people were leaving. Brian was the last to leave. But he wasn’t, not yet. He wanted more time with her. “Look at the stars,” he told her. “I know you can’t see a lot, but-”

“They’re beautiful,” Rachel said. She turned and looked into Brian’s eyes. Neither of them knew what was happening; this was new to them. This was only the eighth grade. They were too young for love. But he reached his hand out and held it in hers. That was the first time she felt love. That was something she would never forget, even if he did. And she wouldn’t remember it for him, but because it was the night when her eyes were opened, when she first learned that everything was worth it, all the risks and the threat of later pain, it was worth it to know that you can mean this much to someone. He held her hand in his and only reluctantly let go. And then she felt the loss.

But she still held his hand. His was motionless and he probably wasn’t even aware, but she still held onto him. He was her first love. She wasn’t prepared to leave him alone in this strange forest, to lose him like she feared she may have already lost Joe.

“There’s a problem,” Chris’ voice issued from behind some trees. The ground crunched as he and Anne came slowly walking into sight. She looked like she’d been crying…a lot. Rachel looked at Chris but he kept his eyes down, refusing to make eye contact.

“What is it?” Sage asked.

“The road’s blocked,” Chris said. “And it doesn’t look natural.”

“What do you mean?” Sage asked.

“There are logs blocking the road,” Chris explained further. “Put on top of huge mounds of dirt. And there are tombstones in there, too.”

“You mean…” Sage tried to say, but couldn’t. “You mean the…the graveyard folk are…”

“Someone doesn’t want us to leave,” Anne said. Her voice was quiet and soft. The fear was somehow making her grow more confident, like it was pushing her toward people she could trust. “Someone wants to keep us here.”

“Is there any way to clear the road?” Sage asked.

“It’d take hours,” Chris said. “Hours that we don’t have.” Rachel looked at her wristwatch and realized how long Chris and Anne had been gone. It had been a long walk for them, and Rachel had spent the entire time trapped in early memories.

“It’s starting to get dark,” Sage said, noticing that the beam of light in which Brian lay crumpled was dimming drastically, the light receding quickly. He could already hear the screams, the far-off shrieks that were drifting beneath the moon and following the scent that they had found. “We have to go.”

“We can’t just leave him here!” Rachel yelled.

“Quiet!” Sage whispered harshly. “We can either leave him or take him with us, but we cannot stay here. They’re coming.”

And now the others were beginning to hear the screams, too. Rachel felt a chill in her spine and Chris began walking around in circles, tugging violently at his hair. “So what, are you saying we just leave him here?!” he whispered loudly.

“We could bring him in the tent with us-” Rachel began.

“No,” Anne said, cutting her off. “With the neck wound he has, moving him could send him into toxic shock or cause more damage. We could make it if we were really careful, but we’d never make it back to the tent in time.”

“So what do we do?” Chris asked, some of his hair standing straight up where he had tugged at it.

“Cover him up,” Sage said. “Cover him with leaves and branches. This grass it tall enough that it shouldn’t take too long.”

“You mean bury him alive?” Chris asked.

“No,” Sage responded. “I mean shield him from the moon. If we hide him well enough, they’ll never find him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Anne said. “He’ll die of exposure if we leave him out here.”

“Better that than to be eaten alive,” Rachel said. She rubbed her cheeks dry and dropped his hand, backing away. “Do it.”

“How do we know they won’t find him?” Chris asked. Sage only stared solemnly and then began pulling up the tall grass. Silently, the others joined in, breaking off branches and gigantic leaves, then placing them on top of Brian. It wasn’t heavy or thick at all, but it was enough to help him blend in with the rest of the forest. As long as the creatures didn’t look too closely, he’d be safe. At least from them. But as to the forest itself…that was another story.

When they finished, Rachel gave a last look at Brian before they disappeared into the brush.

The last rays of light were disappearing when they arrived at the clearing. The shadows were just at the border of the tent, and everyone bolted across the clearing, leaping one-by-one into the open tent. Sage was able to catch just a glimpse of the moon when he zipped the tent flap closed. “So we’re safe now, right?” Anne asked.

“Hard to say,” Sage answered her. “I wasn’t able to refill the moat, so we’re one defense short. Just be quiet and hope the tent holds them back.”

“Will it?” Chris asked.

“Hope means I don’t know but hope,” Sage whispered dryly. They waited in the tent, scarcely breathing, not daring to move or make any sound. And soon, too soon it seemed, the screaming began to draw close, until eventually, it broke out into the clearing. The screams bounced around the clearing and multiplied, tearing through the thin material of the tent and causing the four to cover their ears in an attempt to retain their sanity. It was closer this time. The creatures crossed the moat with ease and circled the tent, screaming their terrible song. Even through the structure’s walls, Rachel could feel their glowing, red eyes staring in at her, as if the walls weren’t even there. But they couldn’t come in, for the rays of the moon didn’t reach inside this place.

The screams continued, mere feet away, and covered the sound of the scratching. No one heard the scraping of nails along the side of the tent, nor did they heard the minute tear as one, long nail-like claw punctured through. The screams covered those sounds. But they saw as the claw moved its way along the tent behind them, ripping a large gash along the side of the tent. Everyone backed away, and suddenly a two more claws tore in beside the first, then another three that were upside-down. The claws gripped the tent and tore it open, revealing a large hole, in which stood…a creature of darkness. The moon was blotted out behind the hulking thing. No definite features could be clearly determined, for the creature seemed composed of the darkness itself. But they could see the glowing, red eyes that stared in at them. The screams of Rachel, Anne and Chris joined with the creatures as it began to move forward.

Suddenly, the creature stumbled back and vanished, the darkness composing it turning back into normal, night-time shadows. The moon came into view, its red sheen matching what the creature’s eyes had been. The three turned to find Sage with an open water bottle in his hand. Half of it was gone. “Looks like it worked,” he said.

“We need to cover the hole!” Chris yelled, grabbing a sleeping bag to blot the hole.

“That won’t matter!” Sage yelled back. “They’ll just tear on through again! We need to go to the swamp!”

“Why?!” Anne screeched.

“The water!” Sage yelled back, stumbling to his feet. “They won’t go near the water! Follow me and move quick; they’re all over the place!” With an agility one wouldn’t have expected for a man his age, Sage leapt through the hole in the tent, landing carefully on the ground outside. After taking a quick look to make sure the others were behind him, he took off, running madly toward a path that he could only remember, but couldn’t see. The others ran behind him, dodging the dark masses that swarmed toward them with glowing, red eyes. The screams echoed all around as the four sprinted through the dark woods and tore along the path. From time to time, Sage would yell out warnings about the path, screaming “tree stump!” or “root!” or “hole!”, trying desperately to be heard over the banshees. They were careful to heed his warnings; a single trip, a single stumble could mean death from their pursuers. Chris, bringing up the rear, could hear the steady whoosh as the creatures glided behind him, pushing their way through the trees, staying in the red center of the path, where the moonlight remained ever-steady.

After a long, terrifying ordeal, Sage and the others eventually burst through the trees and found themselves beside a boggy, algae-filled lake that seemed polluted with all kinds of natural filth. “This way!” Sage screamed. The others didn’t even break pace, as the creatures and their horrific cries maintained as tight a distance as possible. More than once, Chris could feel the sharp jab of dagger-like claws grazing against his back, trying to tear through his shirt and into his fresh flesh…

There was a dock up ahead. The three knew instinctively that that was where Sage was taking them. The girls picked up pace and began running beside the old-timer. Chris was just barely behind them. When the wooden boards bounced under their feet, they began to slow their pace a bit, jogging slowly to a walk the farther out on the pier they went. “What do we do now?” Rachel asked.

“We wait here,” Chris said. “We stay on the dock until morning.”

“No,” Sage replied. He bent down and began untying ropes that were looped around the dock’s support pikes. The ropes were old and slimy, but still strong enough that Sage had to pull out his pocket knife and saw through the ropes. The others followed the ropes with their eyes and realized that there were two canoes attached, floating silently in the black waters. They almost seemed to blend in with the water, it was so dark. “We’re taking these out.”

“Are you insane?!” Chris yelled. “You said that there are alligators out there!”

“And you propose we stay here, with those creatures waiting at the end of the dock?” Sage asked in return. “How long do you think it will take even one of them to build up the courage to venture out here, huh? This forest is almost dead. You noticed it yourself. They haven’t eaten since Joe, unless you count…They will come out here, if you give them enough time. Slowly, they will push us to the end, they’ll sink the canoes and then we’ll have no options left. And then, Christopher, we will die.”

Chris took a look at the end of the dock. Already, one of them seemed to be moving its shadowy form over the first board, as if it was trying it out to see if it was safe. A few seconds later, it shifted forward, lifted its eyes toward the four of them and let out a terrible scream. “Alright,” Chris relented. “Let’s go.”

Sage and Chris helped to lower the girls into the first canoe and then they themselves crawled down into the second. There were paddles in the bottom, and each person grabbed one, with one person in each boat rowing on a side and the other person rowing on the opposite side. Silently, the drifted off into the darkness, with only the two flashlights in Sage’s pocket to guide them through the bog. As they left the dock behind them, Chris gave a final look back at the shadowy banshees, their glowing, red eyes permanently fixated on the escaping meal, never blinking, never moving, always watching until they disappeared behind the mossy, mist-enshrouded trees of the swamp.

Part Three: The Swamp

They rowed for a long time, slowly, carefully dropping each oar gracefully into the water, wary of anything that could be dangerous. The last thing they wanted right now was to agitate an alligator by smacking it on the head with an oar. Eventually, the shrill screams and haunting shrieks died out behind them. But the shore was still too close for them to not hear the creatures, so they assumed that the creatures had wandered off. However, Sage warned that they should remain out in the waters until morning. “This is the last night of the harvest moon,” he told them. “It should be safer after tonight.”

“Actually,” Chris said. “We only have to wait for the moon to set. Once it’s gone, the forest should be safe.”

Sage shook his head. “There are other things in these woods,” he said. “Things not bound by the moon. It wasn’t one of these hunters that drew Brian to the top of that cliff and then shoved him off.”

“But that thing got him during the day,” Anne said. “It wasn’t even afraid of the sun. So even sunrise won’t do us any good.”

“Usually, the daytime is safe,” Sage answered. “It’s only when a creature grows desperate that it ventures out at a dangerous time. It should be fattened after tonight, making the daytime safe again.” Sage dropped his gaze and placed his paddle back into the water, shoving the canoe forward. “Brian should have stayed with the group.”

“So you think Brian’s…” Rachel began, but she stopped. “I can’t…I can’t see how Joe could survive in…what do you think, Sage? Do you think it’s possible for Joe to still…” she cleared her throat and tried to calm her breathing. She didn’t want to start sobbing, not out here, not in the swamp, where it would draw the nightmares close.

Sage sighed and stopped rowing for a moment, shining the flashlight on the trees around them. After a few seconds, he stopped and held the flashlight in his lap. “Do you want to hear what I know or what you want to hear?”

“I want to hear the truth,” Rachel said. “I already know it; I just need to hear it from someone else. I need to know it’s not just me.”

Sage sighed again and clicked the flashlight off and then back on again. “Joe is almost certainly dead. That’s what I’ve believed, ever since I first heard of his disappearance.”

“Why did you bring us here?” Chris asked. “If you thought he was dead, then why did you come all the way out here?”

“I already told you-” Sage began.

“No!” Chris whispered harshly. “You said you wanted to prove yourself by saving him, but you knew he was already dead. Then you said you wanted to study the creatures, but if you knew they killed him, you would have known they’d kill us, too. So what is the real reason that you brought us here.”

“It was for you,” Sage said. “At least partially. Listen, I’m an old man. I have nothing ahead of me.”

“You’re only sixty, Sage,” Chris said. “You’re not that old.”

“I’m sixty and a widower,” Sage answered. “With no kids or family. I live in a tiny town and work very hard at accomplishing nothing. My life is coming to a close, but not soon enough.”

“How, uh…how cynical,” Rachel said.

“I have lived with this realization for quite some time now,” Sage continued. “And then, with a disappeared boy, I suddenly find an opportunity to end my life by doing a good thing: protecting you as you look for him. I knew you wouldn’t find him, but I also knew that if you came here looking for him, you would follow him into the woods. I knew this wilderness would claim me someday, but I’m praying that…at least I can die to protect you.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Rachel said.

“Yes, I did,” Sage said. “You would have all died the first night if I hadn’t been with you. And you would have died again tonight if I weren’t here. I will not make it back to town. I know that. But hopefully, I’ll be able to make it so that you can.”

“How did you know about these canoes?” Rachel asked awhile later. They had stopped rowing and drifted for a long while, with Sage and Anne each holding a flashlight, maintaining watch on the trees and waters around them. “Are they yours?”

“No,” Sage answered her. “These aren’t mine. Truth be told, I overheard two fellas from town mention it in a bar a few days ago. They said that they had a couple of canoes tied to the dock, which they use to unload payload where no one will find them.”

“Payload?” Anne asked.

“I don’t know what they meant by that,” Sage said. “But I wasn’t about to ask. Those two fellas are dangerous; ask anyone in town. They work for a crime boss named Lito, who does work in town. From what I hear, those two are usually the last ones seen with men who disappear, if you catch my drift.”

“Do the men who disappear get on Lito’s bad side beforehand?” Rachel asked.

Sage sighed again. “That’s the question no one cares to ask. Don’t do that!” he whispered harshly toward Anne. She froze. Rachel shifted in her seat and saw that Anne had picked a leaf off the low-hanging branch of a nearby tree. The leaf, now cradled in her hand, dropped into the water as she loosened her grasp. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Sorry,” Sage apologized. “It’s just…town superstition. They say that in the early days when our town was founded, there was this disease that creeped in from the swamp, a disease that made people unnaturally hungry and nearly unstoppable.”

“What do you mean, ‘unstoppable’?” Chris asked.

“Well, as the story goes, Lion’s Den - as the town was originally called - was plagued by a disease that made people like corpses, and those who were already corpses rose to join them. They say that this disease nearly destroyed the town, that it made people hunger for other people, or pretty much anything that moved.”

“How was it stopped?” Rachel asked.

“I don’t know,” Sage replied. “I’m not sure anyone knows. Whoever managed to stop it also went to great lengths to cover it up. But sometimes, when something truly terrible happens, you just can’t cover up the legend, even if you change the name.” Sage paused a moment and cleared his throat. “Now I’m sorry for panicking on you, Anne,” he went on. “It’s just that, according to the legend, the disease came from the swamp.”

“And what?” Anne asked. “You’re afraid that I’d catch it and attack you?”

“Not when I slow down to think about it,” Sage said. “I mean, I know the story’s probably just a myth. But…” He stopped for a moment and aimed his flashlight up into the trees, watching as the beam disappeared into the dark, starry sky. “My town is headed down a dark path,” he said. “This town hides so many secrets, so many hidden stories that…you never think that a town can fall as far as it can. But by the time you realize your home is on its way to hell, it’s already too late to turn back.”

“Why do you think they scream?” Rachel asked. Sage dropped the flashlight back down and shone it past her, illuminating her gently. Even only seeing his silhouette, Rachel knew that he was smiling a bit, grateful to her for trying to lighten his burden. “Why do they scream the way they do?” she repeated.

“It’s probably the same reason that a wolf howls or a bird sings,” Sage replied. “They scream for each other, perhaps.”

All of a sudden, Chris and Sage’s boat rocked violently, as if they’d run against a rock or barely submerged root. Sage let out a shriek and Anne pulled her oar into her canoe, almost dropping her flashlight as she did so. It dropped from her lap and rolled along the canoe bottom. There was a splash from Sage’s canoe and the sound of someone gurgling water. Then it was Chris who was screaming. Rachel grabbed the flashlight as it rolled toward her feet. Quickly, she lifted it up and aimed it at the sound of the other canoe. Sage was gone, leaving only Chris. His canoe was rocking back and forth, as if it was just returning from a steep lean toward one side. They couldn’t see much behind him, but they could see water being thrown about, splashing Chris in the face as he smacked his paddle into the water, screaming for Sage. “Sage!” he cried. “Sage!” But he was gone.

Suddenly, the canoe rocked again, as if it had hit that same bump below the black waters. There was a snap and then the side closest to Chris splintered, as if some dark creature was chomping its way through. Chris’ canoe immediately began to sink as the dark, scaly form chomped its way through the planks and boards. Without hesitating, Chris dropped his oar, leapt to his feet and dove into the water, swimming as fast as he could toward the girls’ canoe. “Swim, Chris!” Rachel cried. “Quick, you can make it! Swim faster!” There was the sound of water parting quickly, and soon the dark shape came near the beam of light. But it darted around the spotlight, preferring to stay out of sight. Chris swam as hard as he could and reached the canoe in seconds. He swung one arm over the rail when he suddenly screamed again. The whole canoe tipped as if Chris had suddenly gained about three hundred pounds and it threatened to capsize. Chris began to let go, but Rachel latched onto his arm, pulling as hard as she could, leaning all her weight into the opposite side of the raft. She wasn’t strong enough and Chris was screaming so horribly, his grip was so weak…

Anne stood up, balancing perfectly without wobbling at all, and aimed her oar at the water, then slammed it in mere inches from Chris’ back. She brought the oar down with surprising force and it stopped dead, as if it had hit the ground. But it wasn’t the ground. With an incredible speed, Anne pulled the oar out of the water and slammed it back down, again and again, like she was chopping with the pointed head of the paddle at the thing holding Chris’ legs. All of a sudden, Chris seemed to lose the terrible three hundred pounds and he slid up and over the edge of the canoe. Rachel almost fell out the other side but managed to retain her balance. As Rachel helped Chris in, Anne returned to her seat, put the paddle in the water and began to row furiously, alternating sides, cutting through the water in the direction of Rachel’s light. They were rowing for shore. Chris screamed the whole way there.