Interlude
Between Chapters 9 and 10
Bret wandered through the trees, bored and aimless. It was a cold and cloudy day; the sky looked like it was going to rain soon. He swatted at the branches and yawned, wishing his mom would just give up on this stupid vacation and take him back home. He would much rather be back at home playing video games than wandering out here in the middle of the forest with nothing to do.
He’d just passed his twelfth birthday, and of course, his dad hadn’t been there to celebrate it. He hadn’t even found the time to come out here on the family camping trip he planned with his son. He was too busy with work.
Bret’s mom brought him to the Smokey Mountains, anyway, having already reserved the cabin. “Camping” in her vernacular meant staying in a secluded cabin, but one that still had all of the same amenities they had at home. Bret didn’t mind; he didn’t really like sleeping on the ground, either.
“Bret!” he heard his mom shout. He couldn’t see her through the trees anymore, but their rented cabin wasn’t very far away. “Where are you?”
“I’m out here,” he shouted back.
“OK, sweetie. Don’t wander too far.”
“I won’t,” he said. “I’ll be back in a bit!”
He kept walking, weaving around the tall trees and underbrush. It was quiet out here, peaceful and relaxing. The only sounds were those of birds and rustling leaves, and that was something he realized that he actually liked. He could have done without the mosquitos and other insects, though.
Lost in his thoughts, he tripped on a long metal object sticking out of the dirt. He caught himself on a tree, scratching up his hand on the bark, and managed to keep his feet. He hissed in pain and then angrily kicked the thing that had almost tripped him.
His foot partially dislodged the object, and he saw the edges of a thin sheet of metal. It was half-buried in the dirt, and when he dug it out he saw that it was an old signpost. Written on it were the words: Raven’s Peak.
Which didn’t make any sense to Bret. Raven’s Peak was the little town they had driven through on their way to the campgrounds. It was over an hour back the way they had come, not out here in the campgrounds. It was definitely strange to find the sign all the way out here.
Strange, but not unexplainable. Maybe someone had brought it out here and dropped it off, perhaps as a prank.
He kept walking, curious if he might find something else hidden out here.
After a few more minutes, he saw the squat roof of a building in the distance front of him. It was hidden in the trees, built on the side of a hill and tucked away.
A new thought occurred to Bret: maybe this was the original Raven’s Peak, and the newer town they had driven through was built later. He knew about old mining towns and how most of them had been abandoned over the years as the coal industry shrunk, he was just surprised to see all of this out here.
Places like this, if it was the original town, were usually tourist destinations. The campgrounds could rake in good money with visitors wanting to see a town built in the nineteenth century, but he hadn’t heard anything about old ruins being out here.
Maybe no one remembered anything was out here at all, but that didn’t sound reasonable. The idea that no one knew about something like this so close to the campgrounds didn’t seem realistic. More likely, it was just that the town was trying to keep tourists away.
If nothing else, it made his trip out here a lot more interesting.
As he got closer, he started to see other structures. He wondered if maybe he was the first person to come this far out here in many long years, and the thought excited him. He imagined himself as an explorer discovering a lost civilization.
All of them were old and falling apart. Many were built on stilts to stay level on the uneven terrain. He counted twenty buildings in all, as well as the foundation of eight or nine more; they were of varying sizes and levels of disrepair.
Near the center of the small town was the largest structure of them all, and it looked like an old Church or municipal building. Part of the roof was caved in, and he could only see the back from this side. He walked slowly past the other buildings, glancing inside the ones that weren’t too high off the ground but afraid to climb up any of the walkways.
It felt like a ghost town, and he was filled with excitement and trepidation at the same time.
He certainly hadn’t expected to find something like this out here: an old abandoned town in the mountains, built of brick and wood. How cool was that?
He kept moving forward, circling around the enormous building to get a glimpse of the front door. Definitely a Church, he decided. The walls were made up of faded and chipped paint; vines crawled up to the roof and mud caked the outside. Out front were four large poles, arranged to flank the entrance and stuck deep into the ground.
He looked at the poles curiously, wondering what they were for. They didn’t look like decoration and were covered in a reddish-black stain. He took a few steps closer to the door. This building looked sturdier than many of the others, and maybe he could take a peek inside.
Just a quick little peek.
The beams creaked under his footsteps as he climbed up the stairs. Gingerly, he reached forward and pushed the old oaken door open. Inside was utter chaos: broken wood, dust, and glass lay strewn about the floor.
Splotches of red covered the floor in various places, like wine had been spilled and left to dry, staining the wood. A raised dais near the front was also covered in debris, and behind it was that hole in the ceiling he saw earlier. And—
Suddenly something moved in the left corner of the Church.
It wasn’t empty.
Bret stumbled back onto the front walkway and ran toward the stairs. Something was in there, he realized, and it had just woken up. He heard footsteps coming toward him from inside the Church, boards creaking underfoot.
Bret jumped down the stairs and started sprinting, not looking back. He heard a screeching sound unlike nothing he’d ever heard, followed by cackling laughter. The door blasted open, but he was too scared to look back.
He fled farther into the town, away from whatever was behind him. He weaved around a few more buildings, feeling his pulse race, and saw a hole in the hillside up ahead. It looked like a carved doorway leading underground.
The mining tunnels.
It was pitch black inside, eerily so, but he didn’t see a lot of other options. He ducked inside, scraping his leg on the way in. Ahead, he saw a huge metal grate blocking his way. It was about four meters into the tunnel and barely visible. It was also locked, but there was enough room underneath it for him to wriggle inside.
He crawled past the grate and turned around, looking back the way he had come. Chilly air flowed up from the tunnels behind him, causing him to shiver. Inside here it felt thirty degrees colder than outside.
Past the grate he could see out the mine entrance and the buildings beyond. It looked quiet, peaceful, and he strained to hear anything. The darkness weighed on him like a blanket; the only sounds were his breathing and the soft dripping of water somewhere down the tunnels behind him.
He watched, hands shaking, waiting for someone or something to come into view. Whoever had been after him, they wouldn’t be able to fit through the grate like he had. He would hide until they had given up trying to find him and leave, and then he could slip out and find his—
There was a soft tickle on his neck as a shiver ran up his spine. He realized in horror that there was something behind him.
He could feel a presence in the darkness. He turned and looked but saw nothing. Only a black so pure he couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of his face.
But something was there. He knew it in his heart and in his gut. He could feel it watching him and waiting.
Bret’s bottom lip started quivering, and he felt tears stream down his face. He’d never been so terrified in his entire life. He started to back up, slowly moving toward the grate as quietly as he could with his hands stretched out in front of him.
Suddenly there was a rattling sound from the mine entrance. Something was shaking the grate. He spun, crying out, but there was nothing there. Only emptiness and the buildings beyond. What is going on?
The gate rattled again.
And then he heard laughing. Not in the tunnel, but in his head. The same cackling laughter he’d heard in the Church.
He slipped on the wet ground and fell, hitting his head against the stone. Dazed, he tried to stand up but felt the presence holding him down. Not physically, but when he tried to move it felt like he was wearing leaden weights. His body wouldn’t respond to his commands.
“Don’t fight it,” the presence said in his mind. It was a throaty voice, thick and full of phlegm.
Bret cried, blubbering now and shifting with short jerky movements. He crawled toward the grate, but it felt like it was miles away. He was terrified
“Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together,” the voice said.
And then he felt something clamp over his face, and the world went dark.
A loud knock on the door woke Kurt from his stupor. He awoke groggily and heard the sound of rain spattering against the window. It was cold and dark in the room, and he wondered how long he’d been out of it.
“…the hell was that?” Alex mumbled, lying on the opposite couch in the living room of their rental cabin.
They’d both started pounding drinks a few hours earlier and ended up passing out. Kurt was pretty sure some of their friends had been drinking, too, but they must have bailed and headed to their rooms upstairs.
Kurt sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning. “I don’t know,” he said. “Sounded like the door.”
Another knock, this one louder and more frantic. It was definitely coming from the front door of the cabin, and whoever it was, they weren’t very patient.
“Way out here?” Alex mumbled. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Who the hell would come knocking?”
He sat up, beer cans falling to the floor around him. He was drunk, though it was barely the middle of the afternoon.
“Maybe the cops,” Kurt offered.
“Not funny.”
“Can one of you get that?” Becky shouted from upstairs. She was probably in her room with Derrick, smoking a blunt and giggling at his dumb jokes.
Kurt groaned and rubbed his forehead. “I’ll get it,” he shouted back, staggering to his feet. He wasn’t drunk anymore, but he was still floating on cloud nine after they hit the gravity bong earlier. Alex had filled the bathtub with water to do it, and Kurt’s lungs were still burning.
Now he felt vaguely muddled; not particularly out of control, just tired and hungry. He stumbled across the hardwood floor to the door of their cabin, fiddled with the lock, and then jerked it open.
A woman stood just outside on the deck. She was in her mid-to-late thirties and pretty in a mousy sort of way. She had on a brown rain jacket and was glancing around anxiously. It was raining out past the patio, but only a light drizzle. Kurt felt a breeze roll by him, raising goose bumps on his skin.
“Uh…hello,” he said awkwardly. He rubbed his arms, fighting off the chill.
“I need your help,” the woman said. She glanced past Kurt, into the room, as though looking for something or someone else. “I can’t find my son.”
“What?”
“My son,” she reiterated. “I think he’s lost out in the woods.”
She wasn’t crying, but Kurt could tell she was holding on by a thread. The slightest provocation would send her collapsing into a puddle on the floor.
“You’re the ones who rented the other cabin,” he said, trying vainly to remember her name. They’d met her and her son when they first showed up, even helped bring their suitcases in, but her name escaped him.
She nodded. “Yes, we rented Hawk Cabin. My son went wandering, and I haven’t seen him. I think he’s lost.”
“Lost?” Kurt said, scratching his chin. He gestured vaguely toward the endless woods around them. “Like, out there?”
Alex stepped up beside Kurt and put a hand on his shoulder. “How long has he been out in the woods?”
“Uh, an hour. Maybe a little longer. I told him to stay close but he kept wandering farther away. I was on a conference call for work, and when it ended I couldn’t see him anymore.”
“OK. We’ll go find him.”
“We will?” Kurt asked. Alex had already turned back into the cabin and was heading over to the stairs. He was wide awake and sober now, totally in control of the situation. Alex was just one of those guys, the type-A personality assholes that made Kurt sick to his stomach when they started bossing people around.
“Everyone, wake up!” he shouted up the stairs. “Get dressed and get down here.”
Rustling from upstairs, followed by shouted questions. Alex didn’t answer them, he just stood by the stairs and waited. Kurt knew they would all obey. Alex was the de facto leader of their group, and whatever he said was what happened. He was why they had rented the cabin in the first place.
Kurt stood in the doorway and then finally remembered that the woman was still standing outside on the porch.
“Uh. Do you want to come in?”
She nodded and he stepped aside, letting her through.
“I’m Kurt,” he said.
“Desiree,” she said, shaking his offered hand.
It only took a few minutes for the entire group to assemble. Becky, Alex, Mary, Aniya, and Derrick. They gathered in the living room, looking around at each other curiously. Derrick sat down and started putting his shoes on.
“A kid is missing,” Alex explained. He waved at the mom, and she stepped a little closer. “Where did you see him last?”
She pointed out behind the two cabins. “Outside in the woods back there. I was on a conference call with work, and when it ended…”
“All right,” Alex said, nodding. “What’s his name?”
“Bret.”
“Let’s head out in groups of two and find him. He couldn’t have gotten far. Mary, you’re with me.”
“Should we bring some supplies?” Mary asked.
“Shouldn’t need it,” Alex answered. “Tim, Aniya, you guys fan out to the south, and Becky and Kurt have the north. Let’s go before it really starts raining.”
They headed outside, grabbing coats and umbrellas on the way. Desiree followed them, still looking concerned.
“What should I do?” she asked.
“Stay here in case your son comes back,” Alex said. He turned back to his group. “Stick together and walk an hour out and then back. Don’t go any more than you’re comfortable and don’t get lost. If we don’t find him, we’ll call in a rescue team.”
They all glanced at each other, hesitant but unwilling to object. Slowly, the pairs shuffled out into the woods, filtering through the trees in their little teams.
Kurt reluctantly followed Becky into the cold rain. He’d brought a coat, but he didn’t have an umbrella. Probably for the best, because the wind was really starting to pick up and would probably just rip it out of his hands.
They walked for ten minutes through the drizzle, and Kurt could feel his wet coat slapping against his legs. He hated being rushed out like that, never mind that a kid might be in danger. He should have at least been given a chance to put long pants on.
Hell, he shouldn’t be out here at all.
“This is stupid,” he said.
Becky glanced over at him, then looked back ahead. She didn’t seem too thrilled to be paired with him.
“It’s cold and wet and this is dumb,” he added.
“We’re searching for a lost kid,” Becky said. “How is that dumb?”
“He isn’t my kid.”
“You don’t have any kids,” she said. Then she added, quieter: “Probably never will, either.”
He laughed, then ended up coughing instead. “No, I definitely won’t. Little snot and poop factories. I don’t get why anyone would want them.”
She fell silent again, scanning the woods. They walked like that for a few more minutes, the only sound the rain pattering against their rain jackets. Hers was yellow, his clear, and the bottoms of his pants were damp where they weren’t covered.
“Shouldn’t we call the police or something?” he asked finally, sick of the silence.
“It would take hours for them to get out here,” she said.
“But they could organize a search party or something.”
“We are a search party,” Becky replied. She cupped her hand around her mouth and shouted: “Bret!”
Kurt winced, feeling a shock of discomfort as she shouted. There was something wrong about it, like it wasn’t a good idea. “Don’t do that.”
She looked over at him, narrowing her eyes. “Do what?”
“Call out,” he said. He looked around at the trees and wilderness, feeling very uncomfortable.
“Why not? We need to find this kid.”
“Yeah, I know, but…”
He trailed off. “But what?” she prompted.
Kurt hesitated, then shook his head helplessly. He didn’t know why, but it felt like a bad idea. Like there was something out there, and he didn’t want it to know he was here.
But that was silly. There was nothing out there, just the trees and some lost kid. “Never mind,” he said, then added louder: “Hey Bret, you out here?”
“You check over that way,” Becky said. “And I’ll go this way.”
“All right,” he said.
“Just don’t get out of range where you can’t hear me.”
“I got it,” he said, annoyed.
He turned and walked away from Becky. He pushed branches out of his face, feeling droplets of rain splash his cheeks. They’d only been out here about ten minutes, and already he wanted to get back inside near the fireplace in Owl Cabin.
He heard Becky start shouting for the kid from off to his left. He made sure to keep her in sight and then turned and called out:
“Bret!” he shouted, then listened. Nothing but the pitter-patter of rain.
He kept walking, glancing back from time to time to make sure Becky was still with him. He could see her yellow coat moving in parallel to him about eighty meters away. Every once in while she would shout, but, for the most part, it was quiet.
Another few minutes slipped past. Kurt thought about just heading back to the cabin without Becky. He could sneak away and return to the warmth while the rest of the group froze out here. Becky would be pissed, and Alex would be pissed when she told him, but what did that matter? He would care less if they were happy or not.
He didn’t go back, though. Not because he felt bad for the lost kid, but because he didn’t have the greatest sense of direction. He knew that if he lost sight of Becky he probably couldn’t find the cabin again.
That just annoyed him even more.
This wasn’t how he’d planned to spend his break between classes. Alex had organized this trip, even footing the bill: he came from money, and he liked everyone to know it.
And that was fine with Kurt. A free place to crash and get high had sounded like heaven. That was before the mosquitos, the crappy Internet connection, and the complete lack of civilization.
And now this.
“Bret!” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.
“I’m here.”
Kurt froze, halfway into his next stride. The voice came from behind him. He turned slowly, feeling a shiver run up his spine, and saw a boy standing about three meters away. The boy’s clothes were soaked, and his hair was matted to his face, but he looked completely calm and relaxed.
But, his eyes…man, there was something wrong with them. They were open with water running around them, and they were blank. It looked like a doll’s eyes, like the kid was looking at him and through him at the same time.
They stood still for a long moment, staring at each other. Finally, Kurt said. “You…uh…you got lost?”
“No,” the boy replied.
“You’re Bret, right?”
“Yes.”
Silence hung in the air. It felt like the temperature dropped thirty degrees in the last forty-or-so seconds, and Kurt felt his body shivering. The kid hadn’t moved a single muscle, except for his mouth, and he looked more like a statue than a child.
And those eyes…
“I should get you back home.”
“In time,” Bret replied.
What the hell does that mean?
“Let’s go,” he said, then took a step to his left, planning to search for Becky.
“They don’t like you, you know.”
The words stopped him. “Who?”
“The ones you’re with,” Bret said. “The ones you think are your friends.”
“What do you…?” he started to say, and then trailed off. Part of him was thinking: of course, they don’t like me, as a sort of self-deprecating joke, the way Kurt usually brushed off insults or challenges. He’d heard hurtful things all his life.
Except this was different. There was a seriousness, a matter-of-fact quality to what the kid was saying that was unsettling. He was stating it, not voicing an opinion.
A fact that felt like a sledgehammer had just hit Kurt in the stomach.
“They never liked you,” the kid said. “They only wanted you in their group because you could get them mushrooms and weed.”
Kurt shook his head: How would this kid know about mushrooms?
But the words rang true, completely and utterly true in a way that nothing else in his life had ever felt true. They were using him. They didn’t like him and had never liked him.
He stared at the little kid, feeling like he could trust him. “That’s all they wanted?” he asked.
“That’s it,” Bret said.
Kurt felt a little voice screaming in his mind that something was wrong. Something was terribly and utterly wrong. But the larger part of him understood the depth of this new reality.
“You know what you must do?” Bret asked after another pause. He spoke softly, his pre-pubescent voice barely louder than the rain.
Kurt nodded. “I know.”
“Tonight.”
“I understand.”
“You won’t let me down?”
“Never,” Kurt said, shaking his head. He’d never been so sure of anything in his entire life.
“Good,” Bret said, the wisp of a smile on his young lips. “Then take me home.
They were the last group back to the cabin. Everyone else was gathered on the porch and waiting for them, and as soon as the mother saw Bret she broke out in tears.
“Bret!” she gasped, rushing over and scooping her son up. “You scared me.”
He didn’t reply but allowed her to pick him up and spin him around.
Alex looked over at the other two. “Thought we might have to send a search party out for you two as well,” he said jokingly.
Kurt forced himself to laugh, but all he could feel was seething hatred for Alex. The bastard had always pretended to be his friend, but Kurt could see through his lies. He knew the truth.
“Kurt found him,” Becky said.
“Oh really?” Alex replied. He seemed surprised. Of course, he would be, the two-faced jackal.
“Yes,” Kurt said. “I did.”
The mother set her son down and walked over. She took Kurt’s hand, and he could see the tears streaming down her face despite the rain. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s no problem,” he said.
“I should give you something for helping me find him,” she said, digging into her purse. “I owe you so much.”
“No,” Kurt said. He forced another smile. “We couldn’t possibly take your money.”
A few of the other members of the group, especially Alex, seemed surprised by the response. “He’s right,” Alex said finally. “We’re just happy we could help.”
“Thank you.”
She started walking to her car, pulling her son along. They watched her go and then headed inside the cabin.
“Thank God that’s over,” Becky said, shaking out of her raincoat and brushing her fingers through her hair.
“You’re telling me,” Alex said. He hung his coat up and then patted Kurt on the back. “Great job, man. I knew you had it in you.”
The touch made Kurt’s skin crawl, but he kept smiling. “It was nothing.”
“No, I’m serious. When you dig down deep, you’re a great guy.”
Kurt brushed the compliment away, feeling sick to his stomach. “You know what,” he said. “It’s been a pretty rough day, but it ended well. How about tonight I dip into my private stash and we all have a little party?”
“Seriously?” Mary asked. Kurt knew she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. “Hell yeah, I’m in.”
“Me, too,” Tim added. Kurt knew that if Tim was in, his girlfriend Aniya would be as well.
“Not me,” Becky said, shaking her head. “I’m exhausted and cold. Think I’m going to tuck in for the night.”
“All right,” Alex said. “Let’s get some tunes going and get this party started!”
Becky felt a hand clamp over her mouth and awoke with a start.
She panicked and thrashed around, but she felt something heavy settle overtop her body, pinning her down. It was pitch black, disorienting, and it took her a few seconds to remember where she was: she’d gone to bed in her room in the cabin. The last thing she’d been thinking about was how much she wanted to turn off that God-awful music blaring downstairs.
She could still hear the music, but it wasn’t as loud anymore. She must have finally fallen asleep at some point. She tried to sit up again, but she felt the weight on top of her adjust, forcing her back down. The hand stayed firmly clamped on her mouth, though she could make little gasping noises.
“Shh,” a voice said in the darkness from just above. “It’s OK.”
Becky recognized the whisper as Kurt and thrashed again. He held her firmly, and when she finally gave up, he started gently brushing her hair.
“It’s OK. It’s all going to be OK.”
He gently brushed her forehead, making soft cooing noises, and her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. She saw Kurt leaning over her bed, using his body weight to keep her down. He looked wild-eyed and crazy, smiling at her.
“I wanted to get to you first,” he said. “The others are downstairs and could probably sleep through a hurricane right now, but you didn’t accept any of my drugs. So I have to take care of you first.”
Take care of me?
Becky started fighting again, then adjusted her mouth to bite Kurt in the hand. He didn’t flinch as she bit down, and after a second she could taste blood as she tore through his skin.
But he still didn’t move. He stayed still, letting her bite into his skin without even a flinch. It wasn’t the response she had been expecting.
“Are you done?” he asked when she finally unclenched her teeth. She watched as he picked something off the bed, and she could make out the shape: it was a knife. “I used to dream about you.”
He said it casually, holding the knife up and studying it.
“I was in love with you throughout all of my freshman year, and you wouldn’t even give me the time of day. You barely even knew I existed. Hell, you still barely notice me.
“But that changes today, doesn’t it? I bet right now I have your full and undivided attention. Too bad it’s just too late, huh?”
He gently ran the flat of the blade across her neck, caressing her skin with it. The metal was cold, and she flinched away from it.
“A pity,” he said. She could taste his blood and heard herself making soft whimpering sounds.
Gently, ever so gently, he sliced the knife into her neck. She felt heat and pain and cried out, the sound muffled by his hand. He pushed it farther in, severing her jugular vein on the left side of her neck and sliding all the way across.
She felt her life blood spilling out, drenching her clothes and the blankets and immediately felt weak and lightheaded. She tried to sit up, but her body was already too weak.
He released her, sitting up, and she clamped a hand over her neck, gasping and dizzy. She tried to cry out for help, but the sound was raspy and gurgling.
“You should be proud,” he whispered to her, kissing her softly on the cheek. “You were my first.”
Then he stood from the bed, leaving her alone, and headed for the door. She watched him leave, life slipping away, and heard him whistling a cheerful tune as he exited her room.
Lincoln Cole
