Mist and Shadows: Short Tales From Dark Haunts (6 page)

Margaret shrugs. She’s resumed her doctor-patient stance and whatever friendship we had is gone. She looks at me clinically and smiles. I want to wipe that fucking grin off her face but I remember what she said about the Methoclide.
 

“You’re one of our best. Every year of experience gives you a better chance to control the drugs. You’re heading towards fifth year.”
 

I see a syringe on her tray. Long needle with a very sharp tip, and there is one drop of fluid leaking out the end. “My insurance is up-to-date, isn’t it?”
 

She nods then the mask slides away and she grabs my hands in hers. “Don’t walk. Please don’t walk out. We can’t afford to lose another Jumper.”
 

“Why is it so important to control that creature?”
 
I squeeze her hand so hard that she winces, but she doesn’t pull away. I hear a snap. Her index finger starts to swell.
 

Margaret is shaking now. I don’t know whether it’s from the pain or the fear that I’ll walk. I don’t really care.
 

“Lisa, we know that one of those creatures followed a Jumper back from the Rift Zone. They can travel through the Rift—we were right about it being a shortcut. Now, it’s out there, waiting. We don’t know what we’re up against and we need a defense.”
 

“But because of its nature, we have no way to fight it.”
 

She nods. “Exactly. None of our weapons have done any good. The military is breathing down Algor’s neck. I’m begging you, please don’t walk. You owe Algor your allegiance. In less than nine months, you’ll be free.”
 

Free...and violent. Without Patrice. “Answer me one question. You said it didn’t swallow up any of the Jumpers?”
 

“We’re pretty sure that they all walked willingly. Williams initially came back from the Rift and told us about it...told us how seductive the energy was. The second time we sent him out, he didn’t return. And Jorge, poor Jorge resisted the first time. But when he beat up Maria it pushed him over the line. He walked after that.”
 

“Plug me in.”
 

She gives me this helpless look but hooks me up.
 

the jump and the chasm is growing I try to remember try to decide what to do but the dance of pure thought is too lovely
 

And then I come back to my mind and I see the Rift Zone up ahead. The creature is there. It sings its siren song and I want to lose myself in that oceanic beauty but then I remember Patrice...the welt on her jaw, the bruise under her eye...the cold fear in her face when I pounded into her. I can’t walk out on her. She saved my life once. I owe her one.
 

The rage wells inside. It’s white hot, the color of the stars.
 

Minor deaths
, they call these Jumps.
 

Minor deaths
.
 

The rage wells inside. I turn to face the creature.
 

Willowborn

Born out of nowhere, the Devil’s Wind was, and it rustled through town, scouring back yards, and into the sewers where it frightened the rats and sent them into the streets. It shimmied through the water system and rattled the pipes so loud during the night that when Bethany Ann woke up to get a glass of water, the wind poured right out of the faucet and through her house. The noise sent her flying into her parents’ room, where she woke them out of their dreams. They followed her into the kitchen to listen to the roaring, rushing force set free from the taps.

Bethany Ann and her folks sat up all night listening to the wind. It pounded the walls and shook the glasses in the pecan china hutch, and great-grandma’s rocker squeaked back and forth in the corner, even though no one had sat in it for twenty years. Come early dawn, two steps before morning and a hop after midnight, the Devil’s Wind gathered for one final push. It raged from one side of the town to the other, sweeping through locked doors, oozing under windows, a wall of wind that left broken glass and popped eardrums in its wake...and then—
 

It was gone.

People edged out onto their porches and extended their arms in the now-still air, trying to figure out what had happened but the silence weighed heavy. The Devil’s Wind had brought a hunter to town—a shadow panther racing through the village.
 

Mary saw it first and hid behind her mother’s knees. But the panther passed by her house. Next came Timothy’s house, but it passed by him too and he was safe. And Heather, and on and on the shadow went, hunting for its prey. As it streaked by their homes, the inhabitants of Painter’s Peak breathed a sigh of relief, not even understanding why they felt like they’d just escaped some sort of tragedy.
 

But then, the panther came to Bethany Ann’s house.

The shadow cat climbed the steps, a silhouette against the approaching dawn, and with its front claws, scratched a deep mark on her door. Then, turning tail, it leapt off the porch and vanished. The town returned to bed and Bethany Ann dreamed of the wind and what it might be whispering to her.

Over the top of Painter’s Peak, the sun was rising. Dew still lingered, beading on the grass, as the sky glittered an amber-tinged blue that stretched a hundred miles beyond the mountain village.

Things got back to normal after that. A group of men rode out towards Bucola in Sammy D’s pickup truck to see if the folks had noticed anything strange there, but the police laughed them out of town and said the whole damn village of Painter’s Peak must have been stone drunk the night before. So the men returned with newspapers from all around and they pored through them, front to back, but there was no mention of the Devil’s Wind.

A few days later, Bethany Ann was sitting on her porch when Joseph ran over and grabbed her by the arm. He hustled her around back, excited and out of breath. As he flopped on the grass and she joined him, the breeze picked up her scent. She smelled like wildflowers and honey.

“What do you want,
Joey
?”
 
She smiled, her eyes twinkling.
 

“I told you, my name is Joseph.”
 
Suddenly shy, he stared at his feet. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. He was fourteen now, but Bethany Ann still treated him like he was ten. At first he hadn’t cared, but somewhere, over the summer, Bethany Ann’s opinion had begun to matter.

“Your mother calls you Joooo-seph!”
 

She laughed and leaned back against the grass, shaking her hair out under the warmth of the sun. Joseph wanted nothing so much as to lay down beside her and press his nose into her hair, to breathe her perfume in so deep that he’d never forget it.

“Knock it off or I won’t tell you my secret.”
 
As she quieted down, he added, “It’s a doozy, too.”

“Secret?
 
What secret?” Bethany Ann prodded his ribs with her finger. “You know I love secrets. Tell me.”

Relaxing, Joe smiled and motioned for her to sit up. It was hard to focus when she was lying there, sprawled out on the ground. He began a low soft whistling.
 

“I don’t know whether I should tell you or not. You made fun of my name and a man’s name is his pride.”

“Please...I’m sorry.”
 
Bethany tugged on his sleeve. When he didn’t respond, she frowned. “You came over here fast enough, so what’s the big deal?”

Joe grinned. “Do you really want to know?
 
What’s it worth to you?”

Bethany sighed. “What do you want?
 
I don’t have any money.”

“Well...”
 
Joe’s voice cracked and he suddenly felt quite shy. It was now or never. Praying she wouldn’t slap him, he said, “I...you could...give me a kiss.”
 

As he blurted out the last word, his pulse began to race and he felt clammy and sweaty. She’d probably smack him, but then, she’d been acting odd all summer. He gazed at her, looking her up and down. She was beautiful, with hair that shimmered red under the sun, and small tight breasts, and curving hips. Bethany Ann was growing up. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. He held his breath and watched her through half-lidded eyes.

She stared at him. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.”
 
He tried to sound casual, but his voice quivered and he bit his lip raw. He waited for her to laugh at him.

Bethany regarded him carefully. “You mean it, don’t you?”

“Well I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t!”
 
Now Joe regretted ever saying anything and he started to get up but Bethany Ann rested a light hand on his shoulder.
 

“This secret better be a good one,” she whispered.
 

As her lips brushed his, he took her in his arms. She was warm and smelled like wildflowers. Feeling rose up, warring within him. He wanted her, bad. He wanted to take her here, and yet, he wanted to protect her. But more than anything, he wanted that kiss to continue.

After a moment, she pulled away, blushing. “Now tell me your secret, if there really is one.”
 

“Oh, there’s a secret, all right. It’s out in the meadow. I found it this morning. I think the Devil’s Wind caused it.”

“The meadow?
 
You went up to the meadow?”
 
Bethany stared at him with wide eyes. “Weren’t you scared?”

Joe shrugged. “Nobody goes up there much, I like the quiet. Anyway, this place is hidden. If I hadn’t been looking for Indian Paintbrush I never would have found it.”

“But the meadow...” Bethany murmured. Riva, an old witch-woman, had lived in the meadow long ago. Her house burned down one night and they never found her body. It was rumored that she disappeared into the woods surrounding the lea, and that her spirit lived there still.

“Promise me that you won’t tell. It’ll be our secret, just ours?”
 
Joe waited until she nodded. “It’s a willow tree.”

“A willow?
 
So what?
 
There are willows all up and down the streets of Painter’s Peak!
 
A willow?”
 
Bethany shook her head and began to laugh. “I think you’ve been out in the sun too long.”

Joe frowned. “Damn it...it’s not worth telling girls anything. Do you think I’d come rushing over here to tell you that just any
ordinary
willow was growing in the meadow?
 
I’m not stupid, no matter what you think.”

Bethany bit back her laughter. “I’m sorry. What’s so different about it?”

“I think you better come see. Can you go now?”

Bethany shook her head. “After dinner. Mom needs me to help her with the beans. I’ll meet you at seven by the school. Okay?”

“Okay. Wear pants. It’s thorny out there.”

“And haunted...” Bethany whispered.

Before they left their long-time hiding place, Bethany Ann had managed to quickly plant another kiss on Joe’s lips. Then, cheeks flaming, she disappeared into her house. Joe followed more slowly, his hand lightly caressed the skin she had touched. Her smell lingered around him and he walked home so preoccupied with the new, emerging feelings that he didn’t notice the change in the air.

The wind was rising.

The meadow had just been called the “meadow” for so many years that nobody remembered who named it that. The land surrounding it was grassy, with small clumps of flowers dotting the sea of green. Partway up the slope of Painter’s Peak, a grove of trees crowded thickly together. A stream flowed down from the top of the mountain, through the woods, where it meandered along until it hit the gully by the village.

Bethany and Joe followed the dusty path up the slope. As the sun lowered in the sky, the birds began their Evensong. The cooling sunlight hit Bethany’s hair and transformed the auburn tangles into red tongues of flame cascading down her back.
 

Joe stared at her. She seemed different than last year. Or was it simply that she had kissed him?
 
Whatever the case, he shook his head and led the way off the trail, under the canopy of trees.

The light filtered through the branches and created shadow-play on the forest floor. Most of the village refused to come here. Riva had planted the grove and watched over the village but when her house burned, it was whispered that Jenkins’s mean old great-grandpa had been the cause of it. His family had been in trouble—in one form or another—ever since. Nobody ever found Riva’s body, though there was some question of how hard the searchers had actually tried. Parts of her house still remained, even a century later, and superstition kept her memory alive.

Bethany shivered as the temperature dropped. It was cooler in the woods than on the slopes. “Do you think it’s true that Riva planted the trees?”

Joe pushed his hands in his back pockets and squinted. “I think so. I wish I could have met her.”
 

Bethany stared at him as if he was crazy. “You’re kidding. She was a witch.”

“So what? I still think she would have been pretty damned cool. I’ve been out here in the meadow dozens of times and nobody’s ever tried to hurt me. Now come on, are you game or not?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Bethany grumbled quietly.

They walked in silence for awhile and then Joe veered into a patch of briars. They crept through the brambles, shaking off the fat eight-legged orb-weavers that built their webs all through the tangle. Joe jumped as one of the striped spiders crawled down his shirt. Bethany laughed as he brushed it off and, as her laughter echoed in the twilight, high and clear. He reached for her hand. She gave it to him and they went on.

The shadows of the approaching evening closed in as they came to a clearing in the center of the bramble patch. Bethany caught her breath. The wind had risen, whipping the ferns growing under the tall oaks. In the center of the clearing stood the ruins of Riva’s house. Stone blocks were all that remained, a foundation with stairs leading into blackness below ground. In front of the house stood a young sapling.