Through the Gate and Beyond

Part Thirteen

This is a continuation of an ongoing story. It begins with Part One, so if you’re wanting to start out at the beginning , I recommend you go there. Or go to the previous Part Twelve.

Chapter 37: The Mound Once More

In the morning, we went downstairs quietly. The mood was somber over a light breakfast. None of us really wanted to talk about the previous afternoon. The events were too fresh on our minds. I just sat there, chasing my thoughts in circles, long after the food was gone. Amber was the first to break through the funk and try to get us up and moving again. “Let’s try out that pool downstairs?”

“What? Pool?” Brad said. He shook his head. “No thanks. I’m just…” he just faded into silence.

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to think how to shake him out of his own thoughts. But I just didn’t have anything. “Nope. We’re going. You need to come too.” It took some cajoling, but we finally convinced him to come downstairs with us. We hadn’t really explored the pool or sauna areas that closely. Now that we weren’t worried about hidden attack, we took the time to check the rooms. The pool, though, smelled of mold and mildew. It hadn’t been properly cleaned in long enough that none of us were eager to go swimming. So much for that idea. Brad took one sniff of the room, made a dark face, and headed back upstairs without a word.

With a sigh, I turned to follow him. Amber hesitated, then followed me. Brad turned the corner and stopped with one hand on the stair rail, just standing there looking too exhausted — or too depressed — to even climb the staircase. I stepped up beside him and put an arm around him. He sighed and looked at his feet.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay, I promise. Just… Just not right now is all,” he said quietly.

Amber leaned against the wall, looking more tired than I’d yet seen her. She slapped the wall with a loud pop. She accented the slap with a loud “Fuck!” at the same time. It made Brad and me both jump. Then she hit the wall again, harder. I distinctly heard something click as her palm contacted the wall that second time.

She stepped away from the wall as I came around to see what the click was. Like yesterday, a panel had come free from the wall. Amber slid the hidden door open, exposing a dark staircase going down, below the basement. Nervously, we looked from the door to each other.

“We have to check?” Brad said, breaking the silence and startling me. His voice was quiet and shaky, turning up at the end, almost like a question. I think he was hoping we would say no.

“Okay,” I said. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay at all. We got our weapons. Brad refilled and lit our lamp. We headed down the hidden stairwell to whatever lay below the palace.

At the bottom, the stairs opened into a large room. It was filled with old, mostly broken, furniture and empty barrels. We spent some time wandering through the stuff, but found nothing of interest until we got to the back of the room. There, we found a folding privacy screen. Behind it was a painting of a dark room with a window. We couldn’t make out any details of the room itself, but through the room’s window we could see a lone tree. The painting was fairly unremarkable until I blinked and the leaves changed.

“Guys, the painting is one of his doors,” I said softly as my heart started racing. We stood there for a moment, watching the tree wave in some unfelt breeze. It shouldn’t have been so mesmerizing. But we hadn’t seen a television in about a month, so for a minute we just watched.

As we watched, two people walked into view on the trail by the tree. “That’s you!” Amber whispered in amazement. I looked closer. She was right, that was Brad and me, walking outside the window. We were still wearing our clothes from the carnival, from when we first arrived here.

“What is this?” I asked.

“The past?” Brad said. As the two of us crossed the view at the window, a woman dressed all in white rushed to the window and began pounding on the glass. It was hard to see her clearly for some reason. It was almost like she was a ghost in the room. There was no sound, but she was frantically beating on the window. A second later, another woman, also wearing all white, came up to the first and touched her shoulders. The first woman quit pounding and turned to the second. Her body language spoke loudly of her despair. The second woman hugged the first. They were still blurry and indistinct, but it seemed like maybe they were crying.

New friends? Ghosts? Or just another layer of this hell?

Before I could even begin to process all of this, Amber walked up to the painting and reached out. Brad moved faster than me. He rushed forward and grabbed her other hand just as Amber touched the painting. A pulse of pressure washed out from where she touched the painting, making my ears pop. The two women looked up, right at Amber, and terror filled their faces. They must have been screaming in the silent world they occupied. The women backpedaled to put distance between them and us, only stopping when they backed into their window.

Then Amber’s hand sunk into the painting. There was no sound, just this weird feeling of energy rising. There was no sound, just this weird feeling of energy rising. It felt like a thunderstorm raging around me as my body tensed up. Amber kept pushing forward. It looks like she was straining to overcome some resistant force. Brad tightened his grip and I joined him, not about to let Amber go.

Amber’s head passed through the painting. The two women were quaking in fear. But then Amber said something. There was no sound on our side, but I felt Amber’s body vibrate with the words. She gestured with her one hand. But she didn’t try to pull out of Brad’s grip.

Slowly, the two women calmed down. They stood tall again, then took a tentative step towards Amber. “What’s she doing?” Brad asked fearfully.

“She’s,” I paused and swallowed, “She’s rescuing them!” I said in amazement. The two women stepped hesitantly forward and took Amber’s outstretched hand. Once they were holding onto her wrist, she looked back at us and nodded. Brad began pulling Amber away from the painting. With my help, we pulled her back into the basement.

It wasn’t easy. It was like pulling a really tight cork from a bottle. But slowly, we pulled the two women through the painting. “How does Mur make this look so easy?” I grunted as we finally pulled the two women into the basement. They almost fell onto Amber, but Brad and I steadied them. Once they were through, there was another pulse of pressure, then the painting was still and quiet again. The two smaller versions of us were now long gone from view.

Something in my head felt wrong for a moment, as I tried to recall walking past that window. There was some scene that didn’t fit into my memories the right way anymore and it made my head hurt so bad that I had to shut the thought out. Maybe later I could piece it all together the right way.

The women stood, looking at us and around at the room. They were shaking and their eyes were huge with fear. “Are you okay? Do you need food or drink? We have plenty.” Brad said slowly and quietly.

“I — I thought you were ghosts!” said the first woman. She was still trembling. She looked to be in her late teens or early twenties, with long curly hair.

“And I thought maybe you were, too,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “But we’re not. Not as far as I know, anyway.”

“You said you have food?” the second woman said, timidly. She looked to be about the same age as the first woman, with straight hair. They both wore white robes that were thin, almost see-through. They were beautiful, or would be if they weren’t so frightened and worried.

“Yes. Come on, let’s get out of this cellar.” Amber said and walked quickly towards the stairs. On the main floor, we set out food for lunch. They both ate ravenously, but we were able to get some details out of them between bites. The first woman’s name was Jessica. She was 19 years old. Her friend Robin was 18. They’d gone to sleep three or four nights ago at Robin’s house and awoken in this world. They’d found a mound with windows in it and somehow gotten trapped inside.

They had been trapped in the hill at least a couple of days. Brad and I shared a look, remembering that mound or one much like it from our first week here. They described it as a dark place, full of things that scurried about like large, loud, insects. They’d had no food and no peace. They’d faced some hard shit in that mound, shit they weren’t ready to talk about. Whatever it had been, judging by the way it made them both shudder and go pale, it still scared them.

“We saw that mound, I think,” Brad said. “And I think maybe we saw you too as well when we walked by? Or someone else who was trapped inside then. I don’t know; this whole world is fucked up in ways I still don’t get.” Brad looked down and sighed, “But we didn’t know how to do anything. We thought we saw something grab that woman. We thought,” Brad stopped, trying not to get choked up. “We thought she died.”

I looked at Brad. Then the memory that didn’t fit anymore suddenly clicked into place. I blurted out, “What if we saw Jessica and Robin, but before they got attacked we pulled them into the cellar here? Maybe the woman we saw didn’t die at all!” I grinned. “The gates fuck with time. We know that. So maybe we pulled them out before…” I couldn’t make myself describe the violent death we’d witnessed from outside. But the memory of the mound still felt wrong in my head.

Brad looked at me, “You think?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. But until we learn otherwise, that’s my story.” Brad smiled at my answer, pushing away at least some of the sadness he had been carrying.

We all introduced ourselves and told shortened versions of our story. They asked questions, but mostly just accepted what we told them. It turned out they had vanished a few days after we did, in Earth time, at least. Time really made no sense here.

“So, what do we do now?” Jessica finally asked. “I mean, if we really can’t go home again.”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. After a breath, I continued, “We’re hoping to fight back. To do something to help folks like you if we can. But, we aren’t sure how to do that. Not really,” I admitted with more honesty than I’d planned.

“You can stay here, if you like,” Amber said. “I’d stay away from any mirrors or paintings you find, but the property itself should be safe. Or as safe as anything here can be.” They thanked us for the food and the offer. We showed them the house and they claimed one of the second floor bedrooms. While they took turns bathing, we sat in the dining room, quietly discussing the situation.

“Can we trust them?” I asked, hating myself for even voicing the suspicion.

“I think so,” Amber said, “But we should lock our door tonight, just in case.”

“We need a plan. I mean, if we’re going to go around rescuing people, shouldn’t we have a plan for what to do after the rescue?” Amber said. We sat in glum silence for a moment, trying to come up with something.

I started checking things off on my fingers, “We need a reliable long-term food supply. We need a defensible, safe, home base. We need some way to find people from our world before they’re injured or captured. And we need some assurances that Mur can be kept out, both physically and magically.”

Brad nodded, adding, “I’m more worried about the magic than the physical presence of Mur. I don’t think he travels this world physically much anymore.”

We sat, mulling this over for a bit. “Why did Mur send us to this house? I mean, he wants us to be victims here, too, right? So why send us to clear out the gargoyles?” I asked.

“You think maybe he’s trying to play everyone against everyone else?” Brad suggested.

“But why?” Amber said.

“Because if we’re all busy fighting each other, we’re not paying attention to him,” I said, seeing where Brad’s mind was going. “Why fight your enemies when you can trick someone else into doing it for you?”

“That makes sense. But I don’t think we are going to make peace with the gargoyles,” Brad said with a doubtful look on his face.

“Well, yeah. I think those things are basically this world’s equivalent of rabies-infected zombies from some B-grade horror movie or something,” I shuddered. “But maybe some things are more into self-preservation than they are. Maybe, just maybe, we can use that?”

“Worth a shot, but we have to protect ourselves first.” Amber said. Brad and I nodded at that.

“So, what do we do?” I asked, again. “Are there any gates on that map he gave us?”

“The map is mostly useless. I’m not sure if that’s because this world keeps changing or because magic makes linear travel a waste of time, or because he’s full of shit,” Amber said. “Regardless, it’s not much use.”

“So we don’t even know if,” my mind choked on the word, “if Earthlings travel through this area, ever. Or if the gates are too far away from here.”

We sat quietly, stewing over this for a bit. “Let’s keep this place as our base. It’s definitely big enough to support more people. We have tools and shelter and plumbing. But then we explore around here. See what’s nearby. Learn this region before we take to the road again,” Brad said thoughtfully.

“Works for me. It’s been nice having an actual bed,” I said with a sigh. “But we probably need to think through how to keep Mur out. If we can.”

“Can he only come through mirrors and paintings?” Amber said.

“So far, that’s all we’ve seen. That and magic doors,” Brad said, “You have an idea?”

“My first thought was we could shatter the mirrors and burn the paintings. But I’m guessing he’d know the moment we did anything like that,” Amber said thoughtfully.

“What if we move all the mirrors and paintings outside the courtyard? If he’s out there, he can’t get in here, right?” I suggested.

“What if we move them all to the basement and then seal off the door?” Brad said.

We heard the newcomers walking down the stairs and dropped our conversation.

“Feel better after your baths?” Amber asked with a smile as they came into the dining room. They’d traded out their nightgowns. Robin was wearing a white dress and Jessica was wearing a sheer white top and slacks.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Robin said. “Food. Clean skin. Not being chased by things in the dark. It might as well be heaven.”

“We really do appreciate it,” Jessica added. “But while Robby was in the bath, I swear I heard cussing and yelling from down the hall?”

Brad, Amber, and I shared a look as we all went pale. “The mirrors! We haven’t been backin there. Not since we found you,” Amber said.

“Not since we burned his book,” I added.

“We best do something. Before he gets too pissed off,” Brad said reluctantly. “Take the mirrors to the basement?”

“No. Toss ’em out the window. That’s faster,” Amber said, but she didn’t sound very confident.

I looked at Jessica and Robin. “When we get up there, grab the mirrors and paintings off the floor. Take them to the balcony and toss them out. You guys focus on the small ones. We know he can see us through them. We don’t think they’re big enough to step through, though.”

Brad got up and jogged from the room. Anticipation set my stomach on edge. Usually, this world attacked us with little warning. Taking the fight to them was harder in some ways. Brad came back with our weapons and a spare hammer from the shed. Presently, Brad returned with our weapons. The feel of the smooth bark of my staff made me just a bit calmer. “Ready?” I said, looking at everyone. Some part of me thought I ought to give a pep talk or something. I blamed that on dramatic film monologues. With a shrug, I headed towards the stairs. We got to the second floor and paused outside the bedroom where we’d dumped the mirrors.

Amber peered through the keyhole. “No one there,” she said.

We removed the chair from the doorknob. I looked at Jessica and Robin. They looked terrified. “This is easy. Just grab paintings and mirrors and toss them out the balcony door. The glass will shatter. If the paintings don’t, we can burn them. But that’s later. Now, we just need to get them out of the house.” They still looked scared, but they both nodded. Amber opened the door and stepped in. Brad and I followed.

The one large mirror that we’d left on the wall in this room was a blank black slate, reflecting nothing. I knew that was a bad sign. Brad walked up to the glass. “Watch your eyes!” he yelled and raised his sledge hammer. Holding one arm up in front of his eyes, he swung the hammer, one-handed, as hard as he could at the glass. I closed my eyes and covered them with my arm as he swung.

There should have been glass shattering. That’s the noise my ears expected to hear. I was ready for glass fragments to spray out or something dramatic. I opened my eyes when nothing happened. “Oh God no!” I screamed as I ran towards the mirror.

Brad had swung at the glass. It looked like his hammer had passed through the barrier without slowing down. When that happened, I guess it threw Brad off balance. He was falling as I started to run. By the time I’d taken a step, he was falling through the mirror. Amber and I got to him a split second before he vanished into the dark. I fell to my knees and grabbed a leg. Amber grabbed his other leg and we started pulling. We couldn’t see anything above Brad’s knees, but something was pulling on him from the other side.

Jessica and Robin rushed up beside us. Without a word, they each grabbed hold and started pulling, too. As we scrabbled back from the glass, I heard a strange voice rise up behind me. It sounded tinny, like the sound of music from someone else’s headphones. I turned my head, but no one was there. The voice was screaming in rage, without words. Then the scream came from a second source. Then a third. Even though each voice was small and quiet and far away, the room was soon filled with the terrible anger of that repeated scream.

“It’s coming from the mirrors on the floor!” Jessica yelled over the noise.

Brad’s legs were in this room almost up to his crotch now. “Keep pulling,” I said through clenched teeth. I don’t even know if I said it loud enough to hear over the screaming. I could feel Brad moving, so I knew he was alive. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

I was soaked in sweat, but we were moving Brad back into this room. God, I hoped whatever was on the other side wasn’t violent, wasn’t hurting him. My mind kept showing me chewed up dog toys and road kill and every possible vision of a butchered Brad that it could imagine. I fought against the fear and kept pulling, pouring the fear into my legs as they strained against the floor.

Slowly, too slowly, Brad continued to inch his way back into the room. At every second, I expected to see blood and worse. But nothing like that appeared. When his stomach was in the room, I could finally see that he was flexing and pulling and trying to get free from something. He was still alive! He was still alive and he was fighting!

His shoulders appeared. Muscles stood out as he pulled against something. Amber groaned as she pulled. “Come on!” I said. I wasn’t sure if I was yelling at myself, the mirror, Brad, or what. Finally, the back of his head came into view. His hair was soaking wet. I could hear him gasping for breath. His arms were still stuck, still straining to get free. We pulled until his elbows were visible. Something black and tendril-like was wrapped around his arms.

Brad was trying to sit up, to pull away from the black mirror. But the tendrils were too strong. His right hand came into view. It was coated in black and he was fighting with all he had to keep from sliding back into the darkness. “Jessica! My sword! Get it!” Amber screamed over the cacophony that filled the room. Jessica let go and scrambled back. For a second, I thought we’d lose Brad again as the tendrils heaved and Jessica wasn’t there to fight back.

Jessica rushed back and held the sword out to Amber. “Cut the tendril!” Amber yelled. Jessica raised the sword up. She almost dropped it, but then swung it down in an overheard chop. I was afraid, for just a second, that she’d take Brad’s hand off. But the sword hit the black tendril about halfway between the mirror and his hand. It sunk in a quarter inch or more.

Brad screamed. I could see the tendril tighten down on his right arm. Brad’s scream rose an octave as the pain lashed through him. “Again! Cut it again!” I yelled in panic. Jessica looked terrified, but she complied without a word. The sword hit an inch or so away from the first cut. But it dug in deeper this time.

The tendril let go of Brad and pulled back into the mirror so fast the momentum yanked the sword out of Jessica’s hands. It fell with a clatter to the floor. Brad’s other hand came into view as we suddenly had more leverage than whatever was beyond the glass. Brad stopped screaming but his face was still contorted in pain. Sweat poured from him as he fought against the tendril. It was terrible to watch.

I pulled. Jessica scrambled, unbidden, for the dropped sword. She rushed around to Brad’s other side and again swung the sword. It only took one cut this time. The tendril released. Jessica held onto the sword, but only barely, as the rest of us tumbled into a heap on the floor.

The glass flared a white so bright we couldn’t see; so bright I swear I could almost feel the white bearing down on us. At the same time, the small screams from the other mirrors and paintings stopped. The silence was deafening. The hair stood up on my neck and arms. “Get back!” I yelled in voice that was too loud in the sudden silence.

We scrambled awkwardly away from the mirror. The bright white glare from the glass somehow got brighter. I shielded my face with my arm as we tried to find our way out of the room. “The door! Here!” Robin called. We headed towards her voice. The room was too bright to see anything. A hand reached out and touched my arm. I flinched. “It’s me! Here!” Robin said. I followed her out of the room and into the hallway.

We were out. All of stood there, gasping, in the hallway. The white light shone from the room like a million search lights all aimed at us. I tried to blink the afterimage out of my eyes, but it was no use. “Are you okay?” I gasped to Brad. He nodded, but was wobbling on his feet. Even as he nodded, he crumpled, unconscious, to the floor. Amber was there barely in time, keeping his head from hitting the wood floor.

I could feel a sensation, like heat waves almost, pouring out from the bright doorway behind me. I tried to turn towards the door, but it was just too bright. There was a boom so loud I felt it as much as heard it. The house shook. Later, we found some stuff had fallen off the shelves in the pantry. The explosion knocked us all down. Jessica got to her feet first, I think. My vision and hearing were a bit shaken, but I stood up next. I had to brace myself on the wall to keep from falling.

The light from the bedroom was gone. I cautiously walked up to the door. The mirror on the wall was gone. The face-down paintings and mirrors we’d haphazardly strewn about the room were gone. There was a strong odor of ozone, and I could feel static electricity even from the door.

I turned as Robin stood. Amber was cradling Brad’s head in her lap. She looked at me. Worry contorted her face as she brushed his hair from his face. I ran to her side and dropped painfully to my knees. Brad was still breathing. He wasn’t dead. “What do we do?” Robin asked.

“Let’s get him to a bed,” Jessica said. Together, we carried him to our bedroom. There, I took off his shoes and Amber and I sat on the bed on either side of him. But through all of this, he did not wake up. I took his hand and fought back tears as he lay there. I fought back tears, but I lost that fight.

Chapter 38: The Last Painting

Brad woke up a few minutes later. He blinked his eyes and groaned, putting his palms to his temples. “Water?” he croaked. His voice was rough. Jessica ran out to get him a drink. He tried to sit up, groaned even louder, and collapsed back into bed. Jessica returned with a glass of water. Amber and I helped him sit up. Brad tried to take the glass, but his hand was shaking too much. Jessica helped him take a sip. He coughed, sputtered, and then drank again. He tried to talk, but the words were swallowed by another round of coughing. Jessica helped him take another drink.

“The mirrors are all gone. I don’t know what Mur did, but his doors weren’t there when we left,” I said quietly. Brad seemed to relax, just a little, upon hearing that.

Brad croaked out something we couldn’t understand. I shook my head. Covering his mouth, Brad coughed a long, ragged cough that made me wince. It reminded me of my grandfather, back when he still smoked. That cough always made me think Granpa was about to die. Finally, the cough ended, and brad gasped for air. He took another drink, closed his eyes and took a few breaths. “He knew we were coming,” he said. “It was a trap.” His voice was still gravelly and rough.

“Where did the mirror take you?” Amber asked. “We couldn’t see anything but black.”

Brad answered, his voice still rough, “I couldn’t see anything either. There was no light at all.” He closed his eyes. “The air was so cold it hurt to breathe. But before I could even start to pull back, something grabbed me. I thought I was dead. I screamed and pulled and fought. I thought I was gone.” He shivered at the memory of that dark place.

“We didn’t let go. Jessica and Robin helped; without them, we’d have lost you,” Amber said quietly, looking at the two new faces. She mouthed a silent thank you. “It was still a near thing.”

After taking another drink, Brad pushed back. Amber and I helped him settle into the pillows. “Thanks for not letting go,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

I rested my hand on his thigh and said, “You’re welcome,” but he was asleep before the words came out.

“Can someone tell me what just happened?” Jessica said quietly. “I mean, I heard all that stuff you said about Mur and his powers, but… what was that?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but paused as I realized I didn’t know. “This place has certain rules, I think. I haven’t figured them out yet. But he has.” I sudden memory flashed through my head. “When I was little, I’d beg my older brother to play Monopoly with me. Beg and beg. Eventually, just to shut me up, he’d agree. We’d set up the game and start playing. After a turn or two, he’d introduce some new rule that helped him. He’d swear to me that it was a real rule, not just him making up shit. I didn’t know the rules, didn’t know if he was lying or not. So he could cheat pretty easily. I didn’t know enough to refute him. Mur is like that. He knows the shortcuts; he knows how to cheat. So he does. But we’re starting to figure out how to play by the same rules. It’s hard and we have no teachers. But we’re working on it.”

She looked at me in confusion, “But the mirror wasn’t a mirror?”

“Yeah. We know he has powers that let him look and travel through paintings and mirrors. I think maybe both act as doors or windows between places, somehow. He’s built an empire through them.”

Amber added, “It looks like he plays different groups against each other. I think it’s so they are too busy fighting with each other to ever threaten him directly.”

“So he can open portals to places as terrifying as that dark space?” Robin asked.

“Yeah, that was a new one on us.” Amber said.

“He knew we were coming. How?” I asked.

“Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he just set the trap and left it there after you rescued us?” Robin said. She didn’t sound very confident of that theory.

“Or after we destroyed his spell book. Or destroyed his spy. He’s got reason to be pissed at us right now,” Amber said.

“Can he come through the painting we went through in the basement?” Jessica asked.

I looked at her. I looked at Amber. How had I forgotten about that painting? “Yes, I think he could, especially if there’s more than one door into the mound.” I stood up. “Robin, can you stay in case he wakes up?” She nodded. “Let’s get some tools.” We went down to the shed and grabbed some sharp objects. I had no idea what might happen in that basement, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

Together, the three of us went downstairs. The painting we’d rescued Jessica and Robin from was still there. But the view was changed. Now, it looked out on a different scene. There was the paved road, but the scene was dark except for a small ring of light, so I couldn’t make out much. As we cautiously approached the painting, I could sense motion. I couldn’t see what was moving, but something just beyond the circle of light was definitely in motion.

I stopped just beyond arm’s reach from the painting. “Grab the frame and push it over. We can destroy it from the back, maybe,” I whispered. As I reached forward, something stepped out of the darkness and into that circle of light. I screamed and jumped back. We all did. Then I hurried forward and grabbed the picture frame.

The painting hit the floor with a whump. Dust blew out and up into the air. The back of the painting was plain canvas, except for a crude finger-painting in the middle. Someone had painted a red triangle with an eye inside it roughly in the center of the canvas. It was just like the one we had seen back in that school. I shivered in fear, but before I could think about what this all meant, Jessica slashed the canvas with the shovel she was carrying.

There was a bang like a large balloon popping. The triangle was torn in two. But I wasn’t looking at the painting anymore. In the darkness and the fear over the painting, I hadn’t noticed at first. But behind the painting, there was a small door imbedded in the wall.

“Where does that go?” I asked, pointing. Quietly, we lifted the painting frame off the floor and moved it out of the way. The painting now had a gash through the center of what was otherwise just a beautiful but boring still life. Still, even the still life’s painted fruits somehow all looked like they might have been sitting out on the table a few days too long.

The door behind it was there, almost mocking us. It was a small door, maybe four or five feet high. I slowly opened it. Beyond was a low tunnel that disappeared beyond the beam of light from our lantern. Air blew out from the tunnel, reeking of mold and decay. I quickly closed the door.

“Okay then. I think we’re all done down here, right?” I said in a false cheerful voice.

“Can we just leave this tunnel behind — er, beneath — us?” Jessica asked.

Oh, I wanted to agree with her. I didn’t want anything to do with that tunnel and whatever might be in it. “No.” I sighed. “Too risky. We have to check it out,” I said, sighing again, “But I’d like to wait until Brad’s okay, first.”

We slid a couple of chairs and barrels around, trying to barricade the low door as best we could. It wasn’t enough. Not really. But it made me feel safer nonetheless. Then, for good measure, I cut the triangle out of the back of the painting, then cut it into four pieces. I carried those upstairs with me, and fed them, one at a time, to the lantern’s fire. They burned a bright green color. I wondered if there had been a similar triangle on the back of the mirror in the master bedroom. I would’ve bet there had been.

I washed my hands and then went to see Brad. He was awake, but tired-looking. “Everything go okay?” he asked when we walked in.

“Yeah. Just another beautiful day in paradise,” I said. His eyebrows rose questioningly. I described to him what we’d seen in the cellar.

“The tunnel, where’s it go?” he asked.

“Don’t know. Figured we’d explore that tomorrow. Maybe it comes up in a Baskin Robins store. Or a Pizza Hut?” I said. He smiled for at most half a second. “Tomorrow.” I said forcefully, “Today, you rest.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Is this why our parents were always so tired? Always fighting demons at every corner? God, no wonder they were always grouchy,” he said quietly. He was trying to be funny, but the joke fell flat.

I sat with him as he rested, holding his right hand. Amber held his left. We talked, the five of us, for a little while, until Brad began to fall asleep again. While he slept, we went down and had dinner. The food tasted like ash in my mouth. I was tired of canned fruits and vegetables. Thankful for them, but tired nonetheless.

We all went to bed early that night. But I slept fitfully, imagining all the things that could be lurking in — or beyond — that tunnel.

Brad woke up first. By the time I came downstairs, he’d already made hot tea and was mixing up some sort of pancake-like thing for breakfast. Soon, everyone else came down and we ate heartily of the fresh food. We didn’t talk much, focusing on the food and avoiding thoughts of the previous day.

“You sure you feel okay?” I asked Brad as we ate.

He finished chewing. “Yeah.” He rotated his right arm, wincing and rubbing his shoulder with his left hand. “Sore, but I’m okay.”

I cleared the table and helped Amber wash dishes. Then, with a sigh, I asked, “Okay. When do we go back down?”

Brad and Amber shared a look. “Whenever you’re ready,” Amber said, glumly.

I nodded. “Let’s get started then. Sooner we get this over with, the better,” I said reluctantly.

“Is this,” Jessica started, “Is this what you guys do?” She seemed surprised and a bit scared.

“Sort of,” Amber answered. “We’ve been travelling, trying to find a safe place. So far, this is the safest spot we’ve found. And the only place with food stores.”

We got our things and headed downstairs once again. Brad had taken some rope and rigged a sort of sling to let him carry his sledge hammer and keep his hands free. While he worked on that, I helped Amber rig a sort of scabbard for her sword. It wasn’t pretty, but it left her hands free as well. For my part, just tied a leather strap to one end of the staff, making a handle. Robin and Jessica found knives. I hoped they wouldn’t need to use them.

Part of me wanted to just board up the cellar door and be done with it. But I knew we’d regret that, eventually. Downstairs, everything was as we’d left it the day before. We cleared the chairs and such from the newly discovered entrance and stepped into the tunnel.

Brad led the way, his light the only thing standing between us and the darkness. I was behind Brad. Jessica and Robin were behind me, with Amber at the rear. The tunnel was cramped. We had to walk hunched over because the ceiling was right at head level. In spots, we had to go sideways, the passage was so narrow. The tunnel was lined in almost-square limestone bricks. Mold grew along the cracks. I hoped the air wouldn’t make us all sick. There was a breeze in our faces, so the air was moving at least. That told me there must be an exit, somewhere up ahead.

The passage had no features, no markings, no side doors or anything. It was difficult to tell how long we walked or how far we’d gone. But eventually, the tunnel ended at a blank wall. Some of the bricks here jutted out, arranged to form a sort of stone ladder. Brad shone his light, but we couldn’t really see the top of the ladder.

“Do we climb?” he asked.

I looked around at all of us. We were a sweaty and dirty and unhappy looking lot. “Yeah. I think we have to.”

“One at a time, okay? That ladder looks treacherous,” Robin said. I nodded in agreement.

“One at a time then, just in case someone falls. I’ll go first, see what’s up there. If I whistle, the next person should come up. Otherwise, just wait,” Brad said. He looked up at the darkness rising above us, sighed, and put his foot on the first stone ladder rung. It was slow going. He had to hold the lantern and climb at the same time, making things awkward.

We stood there, waiting and listening as his light rose up the shaft. I wished he hadn’t mentioned falling. It seemed like forever. The darkness enveloped us, weighing us down like a heavy blanket. I almost jumped when a hand touched my back, then slid to my shoulder and down to grab my hand. “Sorry!” whispered Amber at my jumpiness.

I was terrified. If something happened to Brad, I wasn’t sure how I’d get up that ladder. But it wouldn’t be fast enough to save him. That much I knew. I also didn’t want to think about trying to navigate the passage in the dark.

But eventually, the circle of light stopped rising. Brad whistled.

“I’m going,” I whispered and started up the ladder before I could chicken out. The climb was hard. Each step was slippery and smooth, so I had to be certain that each foot or hand wasn’t going to slip before I could move. I kept going, one step at a time. It was sheer willpower, and I hated every long year it took to move up another rung. After what seemed like centuries, I could see that Brad was laying down on his stomach, only his head and arms visible. One hand held the light out over the ladder so I could see.

“You’re doing great!” he whispered. “Just a few more rungs.” Quivering with fear and fatigue, I kept going. I didn’t have the energy to spare for words. Finally, Brad reached out his free hand and grabbed my arm. With his help, I pulled myself over the side and onto a flat, hard, rock floor. I don’t think I could’ve stood up if someone threatened me with a gun. Not in that moment. Brad whistled down for the next person, then reached out to me. “You made it. You’re okay. Just rest.”

I lay there sweating, trying not to think about the return voyage. My body ached. As the twitching settled, I finally found the strength to talk. “You know, before we came here, I’d never have been able to do that. Not in a million years.” I still didn’t trust myself to move, though. I knew I’d only climbed a couple of stories at most. But it seemed like miles.

“Yep. You’re all lean and buff and shit. We both are.” Brad’s grin was contagious, even if I knew it was forced. I tried to sit up, but my muscles were pure jelly. “Just wait. Get your strength back. It took me about halfway up your climb, I guess,” Brad said in answer to my groans.

Eventually, my muscles recovered enough to sit up and look around. The floor was some kind of natural stone, smooth but not polished. The walls were brick, like the tunnel. There was a door in the far wall, but I couldn’t see it clearly. “The door?” I asked.

“There’s a room beyond. Not sure after that.” Brad said.

Still tired, I lay my head down on his thigh as he watched down the tunnel. “See anyone yet?”

“No. Pretty dark down that hole.” I think I fell asleep or passed out. I’m not sure which. But I came awake as Brad shifted under me, angling to reach out for someone.

It was Robin. I scrambled over and helped Brad help her up and over the edge. She lay in a puddle of exhaustion, panting and sweating. “I thought. I was going. To die,” she said through the panting breaths. Brad whistled down for the next soul to start her climb.

“Good news, you’ve made it to the second level of hell. Next stop, Detroit!” I said in the most cheerful fake-tour-guide voice I could muster given the circumstances. She gave me half a smile. Brad coughed out a half-laugh. Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week. God, I hope I’m not here all week. We hadn’t packed any water. That was stupid.

Robin lay on her back, trying to get muscle control back. “Just rest, the jelly will solidify, eventually,” I whispered. She just groaned. I thought, briefly, of trying to rub life into her limbs. The thought was a good one. But I had nowhere near enough energy to pursue it.

We waited quietly. Eventually, Jessica’s head came into view. Silent tears slid down her cheeks. She was haggard, more so even than Robin and I had been. Brad and I helped her up and over, where she collapsed beside Robin. Brad whistled one last time. I thought about trying to crack more jokes. But decided instead just to sit quietly. “Rest. It gets better,” I whispered to Jessica. She just lay there, breathing hard. I dreaded the return trip, for all our sakes.

Eventually, Amber came into view. Once she was resting, I breathed easier. I didn’t like us being separated. While Amber recovered, I went over to the door. It didn’t have a latch and opened into this room. The wooden door was hard to move on old hinges that had rusted in this humid environment.

Beyond, it looked like some kind of storeroom. There were wooden boxes stacked in neat piles. Robin and I carefully moved one such pile that blocked the doorway. Once cleared, I could see a little bit of light from up ahead. Not much, but it gave me some sense of hope.

Robin and I crept forward a bit. Around another pile of boxes, I saw a staircase going up. It was wooden and modern-looking, with a banister rail and polished wooden treads. A bit of daylight shown down from the floor above. We went back to the others and reported our findings.

Soon, Amber had recovered enough strength for us to leave this room behind. As quietly as we could, we climbed up the stairs. We found ourselves in a living room that looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Still trying to be quiet, we headed through the room. I heard a noise from a side doorway and we all stopped. It sounded like a dish being rattled in a sink. I heard a woman’s voice humming from the same direction. We stood, frozen, terrified by the unknown. Looking around with a frown, I tried to shake the feeling that I knew this house.

Even the humming sounded familiar now. I could still hear it as the voice’s owner rattled around in the kitchen. An oven door creaked open and then closed. How did I recognize even that sound? A smell, faint at first but getting stronger, wafted into the room with us. It was some kind of bread. Sourdough bread, from the smell. Delicious bread. My mouth was watering. I gave Brad a questioning look. He looked at me, shrugged, and sniffed the air. His face then went deathly pale.

“What?” I mouthed.

He pantomimed pulling something off his face and holding it, wrapping it over a something.

My eyes went wide. I could feel my heart rate double, triple. I pointed back at the doorway we’d just come through. He nodded and we began to creep towards the basement. The others looked at us with confusion. I pointed at the doorway again, harder. They got the hint and we began to make our escape.

I think it was Jessica. I’m not sure though, and regardless, I would never blame her for it. Her foot or someone’s foot hit the wrong floorboard. There was a dreadfully loud squeak. We all froze. The humming stopped. “What’s wrong, dear?” a woman’s voice called out. Terror drew lines across Brad’s face. Mine, too, I suppose. I clutched at the staff in my hands. “Dear?” the voice said again, closer now. Brad ripped the hammer off his back and held it, ready.

A woman walked into the room, clutching an iron frying pan. It was still wet from where she’d just washed it. A small voice in my brain, my grandmother’s voice, admonished her with “better dry that quick or it’ll rust!” The woman saw the five of us and screamed.

That scream was terrible and loud and so high pitched it made my teeth vibrate. I instantly had a headache. Amber recovered first and charged her, sword in hand. The woman bashed the sword aside with her pan and tried to hit her on the back swing. But I jabbed her in the face with my staff, hoping to save Amber from that pan.

The staff struck a glancing blow against the woman’s face. It tore the mask, exposing something else underneath. I danced back as she swung wildly with the pan. But Brad hit the pan with his hammer and knocked it from her hands with a loud clang. Amber stabbed her in the side before the woman could recover. All the fight left the woman as she stared down at the grayish blood oozing from her side. She collapsed slowly to the floor.

Blood was pounding in my ears, but I heard the back door creak open and slam shut. A middle aged man stepped into the room, garden hoe in hand. Before he begin to react to the violence he saw, Jessica stabbed him in the stomach, a split second before Robin stabbed him in the back. He collapsed wordlessly.

“What did we just do?” Robin said, horror dropping her voice to a near whisper. I crouched down and wordlessly slid the torn mask off the woman, exposing a completely alien face. She wasn’t a gargoyle at least. But she was nowhere near human. Jessica gasped.

Robin crouched down and slid the man’s mask off. He was also a grayish alien sort of thing. They both had no lips. Their teeth looked far too sharp for the vegetarian diet they had consumed when we stayed here before.

“What do we do now?” Brad asked.

“The kids?” I asked back. “We can’t just leave them.”

“There are kids?” Amber said in horror.

“What have we done?” Robin asked, covering her mouth with her hand. I didn’t have an answer as we stood there staring at each other.

Chapter 39: A Night Out

Blood was still pounding in my ears as I stood in the living room, trying to make sense of the mess we’d just made. “Okay. Alright. He heard the scream. Surely the kids did too.” My brain wasn’t working right. Probably because I was still reeling from the adrenaline.

“I’m not killing a child,” Jessica said with an accusatory tone.

“No. No, of course not. Shit. I didn’t even know the tunnel led here. And how is that even possible? The tunnel wasn’t miles long, was it?”

“There’s a gate in the tunnel. Or the tunnel itself is a gate. It has to be,” Brad said. “But we gotta figure out what the fuck we’re gonna do.”

“Yeah. Let me think,” I said. I looked down at the woman. I remembered finding her human-skin mask hanging in the bathroom. I remembered freaking out and Brad and I fleeing from this house. I thought I’d never see this place again. I’d hoped I would never see it again. Dammit!

“Are the kids human?” Amber asked in a half-whisper.

“I have no idea,” I answered.

“Does it matter?” Jessica added, still sounding pissed off.

I looked at her. She was tense with stress and anger and fear. “Does it matter?” I said in a forced, calm, tone. “Yes, sometimes in this world, it really does matter. I’m not saying it does right now. I don’t know. But here, a child may be as deadly as an adult. Worse, because they look adorable and cute and innocent.” I closed my eyes. “There’s so little innocence in this world. The innocent don’t survive long. God, I hate this place.” I sighed and opened my eyes. Jessica’s face showed she’d listened at least. I don’t think she understood yet. But she’d listened. It was a start. I suddenly realized that I wanted her to live, that I wanted to make sure she survived. Dammit. I felt responsible for her, for them both, even though they were older than Brad and me. Shit, this wasn’t fair.

“Brad? They’ve met us. Maybe they remember us. Let’s see if we can find them, figure out what to do.” I said with a sigh. My voice sounded really old.

“You okay?” he asked with a concerned look on his face.

I barked out a laugh. “No. Not even a little.” I tried to shake it off. “But we got shit to do.”

Amber looked worried. “Should we go, too?”

“Um, give us a minute to see?” Brad said.

“Right,” Amber said. “I guess we’ll, um,” she looked around in dismay. “Try to clean this up?”

With a nod, Brad and I went to the kitchen. There was a fresh loaf of sourdough bread cooling on the stove. My mouth watered at the smell, but the idea of food made me want to gag. It was an odd mix of sensations. We rushed out the back door. Brad and I circled the house, but could find no children. We checked the garden, but no one was there. “Their rooms?” I asked with confusion. Brad shrugged.

I went back in and headed upstairs, Brad right behind me. The kids’ room was empty. Not just empty of people, but completely empty. The room contained nothing at all, no furniture, no clothes, no toys, not even dust. We’d never been in the kids’ room while we were guests. I guess maybe this was why.

Brad led the way to the master bedroom, another room we’d never seen as guests. In their bedroom was a nightmare. There was no bed or other standard bedroom furniture. Instead, there were perhaps half a dozen free-standing rods, set about six or seven feet off the ground. Each had a light tan piece of leather hanging from it. Only, after a second or so my brain caught up with my eyes and let me grasp that the “leather” was actually human skin. There were six human skin “suits” hanging from stands in the room. Three naked men and three naked women, all perfectly preserved and grotesque without any underlying flesh or tissue.

There was a cabinet. With morbid curiosity, I opened the cabinet. The top shelf held the faces that went with the skins, each set on a ball attached to a short wooden stand. They reminded me of those fake heads used to hold wigs. The stand wasn’t shaped like a skull. This warped the human faces almost beyond recognition as faces. But I knew. Oh, god, I knew. Everything about those faces, those skin suits made me want to throw up.

On the shelf below the faces, I saw a rolled up cloth bundle.

I wanted to walk away. But my hand, as if moving on its own, grabbed the ties on the bundle, untied them, and unrolled the bundle. Inside was a set of knives and tools. They were well-maintained, shiny, and looked deadly sharp. There was a whetstone and a piece of leather belt in the bundle as well. The tools were cleaned and polished to a mirror finish even on the handles. That everything, the skins, the masks, the tools, were so spotlessly clean somehow made the whole thing even worse.

I looked around at the grisly scene. My stomach lurched and the room began to spin. I tried to make it to the bathroom, but before I even left their bedroom my stomach heaved and I threw up. Brad held me as my stomach emptied in heave after heave. If not for him, I think I would’ve fallen over. He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t leave my side, either. I thought, even as my stomach emptied all over the place, that this was one of the things about love that no one ever writes poems or sings songs about, just being there when they need you at the worst times.

After, I made my way to the bathroom and rinsed my mouth out. In the mirror, my face was pale and haggard. Brad came up behind me, a look of concern on his face. “I’m okay. Just seeing that room was,” I fought back a gag. “They were bad, but I didn’t realize just how bad.”

He wrapped his arms around my neck, hugging me from behind. “I’m sorry. I know this world sucks ass. I’m kind of glad you got grossed out.” I gave him a look. He swallowed and hastily continued, “I mean, I’m glad you still have enough humanity to care.”

I nodded. After rinsing my mouth out again, we went downstairs and described the bedroom. The three had moved the adult bodies to a coat closet. The floor still had their bloodstains, but I was thankful for their efforts to clean up.

“So, did the kids run?” Robin asked

“I don’t know. I’m wondering if the kids were ever real to begin with. Maybe they were some sort of,” Brad paused, “of illusion or trick or something? I didn’t see any footprints out there except adult-sized feet. Maybe the kids were fake. Part of the trap.”

“Could be?” Robin said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

“What do we do now?” Jessica asked. She sounded as tired as I felt.

“Catch our breath. It’s been a long day and we’re not done yet,” Amber suggested. It reminded me of the tunnel back, something I wasn’t looking forward to.

“I guess we have to make a decision.” I started counting on my fingers. “Do we stay here for a day or two, strike out from here to explore this area again, or do we want to go back down the tunnel and get back to the house?”

“I do not want to spend a night in this place,” Brad said with conviction that bordered on anger.

“Agreed.” I added.

“What’s around here anyway?” Robin asked.

I thought back. “We ran from here in the middle of the night. Ran into that short little demon-thing later in the day in that barn down the road and then,” I looked at Brad.

“Mr. Nobody. That was next, I think.” He grinned a wicked little grin, “That first night in the bamboo forest.” I hit him in the arm, but not hard enough to hurt. The smile vanished. “Then the city of the dead, wasn’t it?”

“Oh. Yeah. So that’s it, then. We can take the road away from Mur and his fiefdom, into the unknown. We can go into the city of the dead. It has some interesting stuff, but…” I swallowed. “It’s not without dangers. Or we can take the tunnel back to the house.”

“Which has the most food?” Jessica asked.

“There was a stash in the city. Maybe more than one. More than the mansion had, certainly. And more variety, too.” Amber answered.

“It’d take us a full day or so to get there, if we hurry. It took us two, but we didn’t know the way and weren’t rushing.” I closed my eyes, trying to think. “You know, I don’t know if Mur has any power there.”

“That might explain why Martha stays in the city. But it’s not safe there. Not at all,” Amber said. I nodded. She’d been there longer than us. She knew.

“What if we raided the city, stole whatever food we could carry, then went back to the mansion?” Robin asked. “That way, we don’t have to do that ladder and tunnel twice in one day.”

I looked around. The idea of new foods was a tempting one after five days. I didn’t know how long the food would last at the mansion, either. We did need supplies. “I second that. All in favor?”

It was unanimous, though Amber didn’t raise her voice in support until the end. “Okay then. Let’s see if we can find anything here worth taking.”

We spent an hour or so searching the place. None of us went near the master bedroom. But we took blankets from the guest room, where we’d stayed. We also took all the food we could carry. Robin and Jessica rigged some makeshift packs from sheets, which would come in handy, I thought.

“Do we move them?” Robin asked, nodding her head to the coat closet where the bodies were hidden. My shoulders slumped as Brad answered, “Yeah, we need to. I don’t want to come back to the smell.” He saw my expression and added, “And because it’s the right thing to do.” So we hauled the bodies out and buried them in shallow graves a few yards out past the garden. I hated that we were now used to digging graves. It was yet another shitty thing this world was doing to us.

It was almost dark when we struck out from the house. I was nervous about sleeping outdoors again, but I wasn’t about to spend the night in that house. “I know where to go,” Brad said. He wasn’t happy about it, though. We headed off down the trail we’d followed. With the sunlight fading, it was eerie to find myself running from the same house a second time, in the dark. We traced our way down the road until we came upon the burned out mobile home. Behind it, the barn still stood.

Brad went inside first, but I was right behind him. The room was still surprisingly clean. Tools still hung above the workbench along one wall. There was a discoloration on the floor where we’d killed the “farmer,” the first death we had caused in this world.

The others came in behind us as we checked out the room. “The body is gone.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Yeah. The man back at the house looked the same, but was it really him? Did we not finish the job?” I whispered back.

“No, remember, outside the suit, he was tiny. The bodies at the house were human-sized. Different creature, same farmer-skinsuit.”

I shuddered. “No fucking clue. None at all,” I said. My voice sounded hollow, even to me.

He hugged me tight, for just a second, then turned to the others. “We can close the door. It should be safe for the night.” I saw him glance at the bloodstain. “Relatively safe, at least.”

“We better seal ourselves in. It’s safer that way.” I said. We took turns peeing behind the building and then set about making camp in the barn.

Robin, the last to go out, came in and slid the door closed. I grabbed a screwdriver. “Brad?” I held the screwdriver behind the door, against the wall. He pounded the screwdriver into the wood with his sledge hammer. It wouldn’t stop anything massive, but it should at least slow things down. We spread out our blankets and, having nowhere else to go, settled in. The floor was cold even through the blankets, so we ended up sleeping in a huddled mass.

“Is it always like this?” Robin asked.

“Not always. But getting to that mansion? Yeah, it was mostly like this. Facing terrible things, running, hiding, then doing it again the next day,” I said quietly. I felt Robin shiver. I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from fear. As I faded off to sleep, I thought I heard her, or maybe Jessica, crying softly. I wanted to say something to comfort them. But I had no words that would take away the horror of our world. I had no words to comfort her or me either one.

I awoke, shivering, sometime during the night. For a second, I thought I had heard someone beating on the door to the barn. But as I lay there, the sound, whatever it had been, didn’t repeat. I tucked in tighter against Brad. He muttered something in his sleep. I felt Amber shift closer to me. It was cold. Colder than I’d been since we arrived. None of us had winter clothing. I hadn’t even seen a coat since we arrived. I hoped seasons didn’t exist here. Yet another worry, I thought, as I faded back to sleep.

I awoke with a start as Brad shifted. It took me a few seconds to figure out where I was and why I was so uncomfortable. It was still cold. Daylight showed through the single window. My back hurt and I needed to pee so bad that that hurt, too. I groaned softly and sat up.

Amber opened one eye and looked me. She closed the eye and stuck her tongue out at me for a second. I smiled and stood up. She slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. I was shivering now that I was out from under the blanket. Jessica began moving, too. I started working on removing the screwdriver from the door.

With a grunt, I got the screwdriver out. The door slid open easily, but made enough noise to rouse Robin and Brad. Quickly, I glanced out, but saw nothing suspicious. I ran out behind the barn and peed with a sigh.

Only after I’d finished and was walking back into the barn did I see the marking on the outside of the barn door. Something had bashed into it with enough force to scratch the wood in two areas. There was a speck of blood, dead center between the scratches.

“Guys?” I called out with concern.

Brad rushed out first, hammer in one hand. Amber was close behind, carrying her sword and my staff. I took the staff form her and mouthed a quiet “thank you.”

I pointed to the door. Amber ran a finger along the scratches. “These weren’t there last night, were they?” she asked.

“No,” I said. I looked around in the grass and saw a small drop of blood. Near it was another. I followed the trail, each drop about two or three feet from the next. It led towards the burned out house, then veered down a trail behind it. The five of us followed the trail into some low brush.

Something else had been active in the night. Broken branches and clawed prints showed where a second trail merged with the one we were following. We kept going, but I paused to make sure everyone was ready. A few yards deeper into the trees, the blood trail ended. Some kind of fight had occurred here, I thought, based on the trampled brush and blood splashed on a few branches.

But the thing that demanded our attention was the deer. It was nothing but a skeleton. The remains were laying against a tree, curled up almost like a cat sleeping on a pillow. But the antlers were spaced about the same as the scratches on the barn door.

What the hell was this thing? And what killed it?

“What?” Robin said in shock.

I looked at her. “What could do this? What could strip an animal to its skeleton so cleanly in a few hours?” She swallowed hard and nodded. “I don’t know. I really don’t.” I made eye contact with her. “But it isn’t here and we are. So we go. Before it comes back. That’s how we live. That’s how we keep going.” What the fuck? When did I start sounding like this? I swallowed. She nodded and we headed back to the road. The sun was warm enough to offset the morning chill. But the goosebumps on my arms didn’t fade for a long time after seeing that skeleton.

The story continues in Part Fourteen.