-Liv-
I placed the bottle to
my lips, barely getting a sip of the spiced rum in my mouth before Amber
snatched the handle from my grip.
“Hey!” I exclaimed in
mock-annoyance.
“You were taking too
long,” she slurred. Her usually-bright blue eyes were blurry and glazed over
with the effects of the alcohol. I rolled my eyes, wiping spilt Captain Morgan
from my chin with the back of my hand. I did not really want to drink anyway. I
watched her plop down into her boyfriend’s lap. Her hair flew into the air
around her face with the effort and John sputtered as red strands got caught in
his mouth.
His large hands roamed
along her exposed thigh as she kissed him with an open mouth. I rolled my eyes.
She was like this with all of her boyfriends.
I usually just looked
away, but this time I blushed. John’s friend Hunter was sitting on the other
side of me. He and John had been on the football team when we were in high
school. Neither of them had talked to me then, but recently we had all become
friends. Now I was trapped between the ex-kicker and what was about to become a
live porno between the cheerleader and the quarterback.
Hunter smiled
sheepishly when our eyes met for a moment. I could tell that he was as
uncomfortable as I was. I offered a quick smile as a condolence for the two of
us being stuck in the middle of nowhere with the two exhibitionists.
We were supposed to be
on a double-date, but I was hardly interested in Hunter. Sure, he was good
looking. I could easily fall for those big, brown, lost-puppy eyes, but there
was no use in starting something that would lead nowhere. As soon as I completed
my classes, I was planning on leaving Carcel, boyfriend or not.
I knew what people in
our small town said about me. They thought I was just as promiscuous as Amber.
I was, “slutty by association,” she and I joked. The truth was, I had only ever
kissed one person in my life. Although I had ended up doing a lot more with that
same person, at twenty-one years old, I was still technically a virgin. Amber
and I were close friends even though we did not adhere to the same sexual guidelines.
It kept us from fighting over guys. Besides, I didn’t care enough about what
the people here thought of me to fight the label. This town would be in my
rearview mirror so soon that it simply did not matter.
John had invited us out
for the evening, promising a night of excitement and mystery. So far, I was not
impressed. I had yet to experience either excitement or mystery, but here we
were, on Halloween night, stuck out in the boonies. We’d parked our cars in a hidden
parking lot and followed him into the woods like a pack of dumb teenagers,
complete with a half-empty bottle of booze as if he had stolen it from his
parents’ liquor cabinet.
“Pass the bottle back
if you’re just going to make out,” I teased Amber.
She jutted it at me
without separating her face from John’s. I took it and offered some to Hunter.
He refused with a wave of his hand, so I took a sip. The liquid warmed me on
the cool fall night. I sat the bottle on the dirt beneath me, careful to
replace the cap in case I forgot it was down there and kicked it over.
Hunter and I avoided
talking to each other by checking our Facebook pages and responding to “Happy
Halloween” texts on our phones. My screen flickered, lighting back up only
after I tapped the device on my leg.
“Mine just did the same
thing,” Hunter said.
“Weird,” I replied, and the happy couple finally came up
for air then. Relief showed on Hunter’s face as John began talking.
“Ok, so you guys have heard of Devil’s Oak, right?”
Sure we had. It was a local legend, but no one knew where
it was.
“Well I found it,” John continued, becoming more animated
as he did, “I’ve got a friend on the historical society, and she told me where
it was!”
“Let me guess,” said Amber with annoyance rising in her
voice, “It’s somewhere out in the deep dark forest?”
“You got it, babe!”
“You know I hate scary shit, John!” she said, punching his
arm angrily.
“But that’s why you girls have me and Hunter, to protect
y’all from the big bad ghosts.”
“We’re doomed,” I snarkily retorted.
“Well let’s see it then,” said Hunter, “Where’s the tree?”
“This way,” John said, standing up quickly. The excitement
in his voice made him sound like a little boy on Christmas morning.
Hunter stood up, pocketing his phone in the back of his
jeans. Amber and I reluctantly stood also. She wrapped herself around John’s
arm, but I kept a solid three feet of space between Hunter and myself as we
walked.
We had been walking for a few seconds when I suddenly
remembered the booze and used the backlight on my phone to find my way back to
the tree where we had been sitting. The moon was full, but under the canopy of
the forest I could hardly see anything. Of course my phone flickered again and
I stumbled. I felt strong hands help me to my feet.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Sure,” came Hunter’s voice in the dark.
I managed to find the bottle and we made our way back to
the group. John was telling the same story we had all heard a million times
growing up, and using his cellphone’s backlight to guide us down the
hard-packed dirt path. For a hidden place, the path leading to it was well-worn
and clear of debris.
“Ned loved Norma an awful lot,” John began the story as
Hunter and I caught up.
I had heard the tale before, but I listened anyway as we
walked deeper into the woods.
Norma married Ned
because her family had no money and he had lots of it. She never really loved
him, but their relationship was fine until she met Thomas. Thomas worked with
Ned smuggling illegal items across the creek which marked the county line back
then. Ned built a bridge at the base of a giant oak tree. At the time, the oak
stood taller than any of the young trees in the woods, making finding it easier
for those he would trade with. Ned named it Devil’s Oak for both its height and
its darkness; for the tree was black, unlike any other tree in the forest.
After months of
flirtation and stolen kisses under Devil’s Oak, Norma and Thomas made plans to
run away together. Norma packed her bags one morning while Ned slept off a hard
night of work, and snuck out to meet Thomas at the tree. What she did not know
was that Ned was not asleep in his bed, but was waiting for her at the
rendezvous point. When she rounded the base of the massive oak, Ned surprised
her by shooting her in the chest with a shotgun. He drug her body along the
moist soil, laying her to rest in the center of the bridge he had built with
his own hands. He retrieved Thomas’s body from behind a large tree and placed
it next to Norma’s on the bridge. He doused the wooden structure in lamp oil
before pouring some over his own head and lighting a match.
None of the bodies were
ever found, but there were three faded and mossy headstones in the old Baptist
cemetery, one for each of the souls lost on the creek that day.
By the time John was finished telling the story, the trees
and underbrush had thinned out. The bright moon lit the woods in a bluish glow,
making the path easier to follow without John’s phone light. He pocketed the
device as soon as he was finished talking.
“Are we almost there?” Amber whined, “My feet are killing
me!”
“Look,” John said, pointing ahead. Sure enough, a dark
shape stood out among the trees like some huge hulking beast. The tree stood
alone, all other plant life seemingly afraid to take root in its menacing
shadow.
The trees thinned enough over the creek that the moonlight
acted as an eerie blue spotlight on the remnants of the bridge. I felt drawn to
the oak even though every inch of my skin was crawling with fear. My three
companions seemed just as entranced by the sight before us. None of them made a
sound save for heavy breaths causing miniature clouds of condensation in the
cold air. Even Amber was silent.
“Whoa,” Hunter’s voice broke the all-engulfing quiet of the
woods. It seemed even the creatures of the night had respect for the deadly
history here. That, or they were just as afraid of this place as we were.
Without realizing it, we had all walked together towards
the tree and were now standing at its base above the creek. Half of the oak’s
roots were exposed and dangling over the water where the soil had eroded out
from underneath it. Thirty feet or so below us, the creek trickled by in a slow
progression. It was somewhat magical, in a creepy, people-were-murdered-here
kind-of way.
I looked over to see that Amber and John were wrapped up in
each other’s arms, making out again. I let out an audible sigh and sat the
bottle of alcohol down near their feet, hoping they would find it later without
tripping on it. I nudged Hunter, hinting that he follow me away from the slurpy
couple. He walked along beside me, and I led him down the embankment and under
the frame of the bridge. We had to climb over a few cypress “knees”, which were
just the roots of the large trees. Our feet sunk slightly into the wet clay
soil with a soft “squish” and each step made a satisfying little sound that
somehow calmed my nerves. It was such a funny noise in such a scary place.
Before long, I felt much better about my surroundings and
Hunter’s company in the dark. We found a large rock to sit on and Hunter picked
up some pebbles and sticks that we silently threw into the water.
“So, do you believe in ghosts?” I asked in a whisper.
“Sure, why not?”
“You want to try and get a picture of one on our phones?” I
whispered conspiratorially.
He smiled in response, and I decided that it was a nice
smile as he reached to pull out his phone.
“How do we do this?” He asked.
“I have no idea,” I said, “I’m just going to snap some
photos and see what comes up. Maybe we’ll catch some orbs or something if
nothing else.”
I took a selfie of the two of us smiling, and noticed
Hunter trying to put his arm around me in the back of the frame. The picture
caught him with his arm awkwardly reaching out behind me. I chuckled to myself,
realizing he must have changed his mind right at the moment I snapped the
camera because he did not currently have his arm around my shoulders. I had to
admit, he was growing on me.
We got up and walked back under the bridge, stepping
cautiously around creek debris and snapping photos. Hunter did not talk much,
but he got into the spirit of the hunt. I could tell he was enjoying himself by
how much he was smiling. I was enjoying myself too.
I was beginning to really relax, and then Hunter kissed me.
I was so caught off guard that I reared back and slapped him.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry!” I said, and I meant it. Slapping him had been
almost a reflex.
He rubbed his cheek where I had hit him, flexing his jaw
and blinking, trying to regain the feeling in his face. I felt awful.
“You surprised me is all,” I explained, “I am really sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said, “I just thought…” and trailed
off, looking down at the ground in embarrassment.
I wrapped my fingers gently around his wrist.
“No, it’s ok,” I said, and feeling high from adrenaline or
something else, I kissed him. It came out of nowhere, but it suddenly felt right.
Hunter softened from his uncomfortable stance and he kissed me back. Soon we
were tangled in each other’s arms as shamelessly as Amber and John had been.
I felt everything go hazy and blur together. My body began
acting against all of my own logic as the kiss changed into something more. I
was lost to sensation and blissful lust, but this was not me. I had no control
over what was happening, but somewhere inside me I knew that what I was doing
was not what I wanted to be doing, and I began to fight it. When my mind
finally cleared, Hunter and I were on the ground, covered in leaves, twigs, and
muck from the creek bed. Hunter was on top of me, his arms were wrapped around
me and his mouth was on mine, his tongue searching for the back of my throat. I
tried to shove him off of me but he was still in a lustful trance. He finally
rolled over with a disappointed groan.
“Hunter, snap out of it!” I frantically whispered into his
bleary-eyed face. A fog had set in and the night was much darker than it had
been. He leaned forward, trying to kiss me again.
“No!” I shouted, smacking him hard across the face. This
time I was not sorry.
“What the hell, Liv?” he exclaimed, finally snapping out of
the trance.
“Look around,” I said, “We’ve been here for hours.”
“It smells like ass,” he said, his nose crinkling at the
smell of rotten eggs that had settled on the air.
“It’s just sulfur water. There’s probably a natural well or
something nearby,” I responded automatically.
“Wait, what the hell are you talking about? We haven’t been
here for hours. It’s been maybe twenty minutes.”
“Look up,” I said, “the moon was out when we got here. Now
it’s gone.”
Realization dawned on him as he glanced upwards. I stood up
and he did the same. We did not speak as we made our way back up the muddy
wall. He got up the wall first and reached a hand out to help me. I suddenly
did not want him to touch me. I hesitated but took his hand. Hurt flashed
across Hunter’s face, but I did not say anything to comfort him. I just wanted
to get out of the woods and away from him so that I could make sense of what
had just happened.
He pulled me over the edge and we both took stock of the
situation. John and Amber were gone, and so was the bottle of Captain Morgan. I
could not help but be annoyed.
Typical Amber, I thought, not giving a crap about anyone but herself.
For all she knew,
Hunter could have raped and murdered me out there. I was livid. I turned my
phone on with every intention of sending her a two-paragraph rage-text, when a
loud “Boom” reverberated off the trees.
I recognized the sound
instantly as a gunshot, but no one was supposed to be hunting in these woods.
Hunter went white, his
eyes darting around in every direction as his body tensed into a defensive
crouch.
“Useless,” I said out
loud, pocketing my phone as it died in my hand, “is yours working?”
“Yeah, here,” he said,
removing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans without taking his eyes
off the trees.
The battery was low on
his phone too, but it was our only light. I decided to save my rage-text for
after we made it out of the woods.
BOOM!
The sound stirred a
flock of sleeping birds into flight. Their screeches echoed through the woods
with the sound of the gunshot ghosting behind them.
“Let’s just get back to
our cars, ok?” I said shakily.
He nodded as
determination reclaimed his face from fear. I could tell he wanted desperately
to be the big strong protector, but he was fighting the urge to panic and run.
That was ok because I was too.
“Did you see that?” He
asked.
“What?”
“It looked like
somebody was walking towards us,” he said, “like out there.”
He pointed into the
darkness. I could almost make out the shape of a person moving among the trees,
but it was hard to see outside of our circle of light. I squinted, and the
shape seemed to fade away. I hoped it was just a trick of the light.
BOOM!
The sound was much
closer this time, and came from the direction Hunter had been pointing in. Without
any control over our reactions, we both took off running. I forgot about the
phone light and just ran blindly in the direction I hoped the path led. The
smell of sulfur thinned the further we got from the creek.
After what seemed like
hours of jogging through the woods, the clearing appeared. I was so relieved at
the sight of my car that I almost cried. I was so afraid, and everything in my
body was screaming at me to get out of there.
We both jumped into our
own cars without even a goodbye to each other. I fired up the engine of my
little white Mustang as Hunter’s headlights flew past my car in a blur. He had
not bothered to wait for me but I could not blame him. I shifted into reverse
and looked in the rearview.
There, standing at the
edge of the forest, was a man holding a double barreled shotgun. Burns covered
his skin in boils and peeling flesh. The way
he looked at me was enough to give me nightmares, his dead eyes were filled
with a scalding rage, but the fact that I could see completely through him was
the real kicker. I backed the car out, spraying gravel in my haste, and I just
drove.
-Finn-
I
could not sleep, and I could not remember anything that had happened since some
time in the evening of the day before. The sun was already hinting at its
presence through the large glass windows outside of my den. Light was
threatening to encroach upon my dark solitude. I had only regained awareness in
the previous fifteen minutes or so. Before that, nothing. I had spent that
fifteen minutes pacing, becoming more infuriated by the second. I had no idea
what I had done this time, but I was sure it was something horrible. My nature
led me to expect the worst from myself, although I tried my best to fight it
when I was conscious. However, recurring blank spaces in my memory had me
nervous.
How can I be good when
I cannot control myself? No matter what the circumstances, I must do no wrong.
I have to get a grip. I have to be responsible. I have to find a way to stop
this sleep-walking or whatever it is.
I
made up my mind to visit Amy at work in a few hours and see if she could help
me with my problem. There was nothing I could do but wait.
