Honeymoon, Part Five

We had a nice dinner and drove slowly back to our cabin. 

A faint twilight lingered across the sky, and we decided to go swimming in the lake. That turned into a certain amount of, uh, celebrating our marriage again, and then we lay on the sand watching the stars come out.

Rachel pointed at a shooting star. “When I was a kid I used to pretend those were angels dying.”

“That’s kind of disturbing. Who killed them?”

“Aliens. From another dimension. I had a whole cosmology worked out. There were unicorns too.”

“Of course.” I held up a hand. “Quiet. I think . . .”

Yeah. The singing.

We listened for a few minutes as the waves beat softly on the sand. “Do you want to go see?”

“Let me get dressed. Not sure I want to meet them naked.”

We pulled out clothes on and made our way to the edge of the trees. One step we were on the beach; then next step, we were in darkness again, but surrounded by light in tiny colorful orbs flying this way and that around us. Sophia Broadtree’s little friends.

They were singing, their voices light and shimmering in the cool air. Two fairies chased each other from one tree to the next, zipping back and forth. A dozen of them flew in a circle, making a halo that rose and fell over the grass. The rest just darted randomly, flying everywhere and nowhere, singing their tuneless song.

We stood holding hands, listening, for five minutes, or maybe an hour.  And then, like the other night, the singing faded. Then stopped. The lights flying around us dimmed to nothing as the fairies abruptly fled or went hiding. 

Rachel’s hand tightened on mine as a low growl rumbled around us. We felt a hot blast of air over our bodies, like a dragon’s fiery breath, and then felt the ground quake under our feet. I was getting ready to run when a human shriek shattered the night air.

We looked at each other. I wanted to run. I remembered being chased by whatever it was in the woods that had ripped the Varner Sutton man apart, and I didn’t want to meet it face to face. But I also didn’t want to look like a coward in front of Rachel. Especially now that we were married. So I bit my lip and fumbled for my phone.

It cast enough light for me to see my feet in the dirt as another scream rose in the air. Closer. A a woman now. I didn’t know what I could do, but I had to try. 

I headed toward the screams, hoping Rachel would turn and go back to the cabin, but of course she followed. I didn’t have time to argue, and she wouldn’t listen anyway. We made our way as fast as we could over the uneven ground, trying not to trips over any loose branches or stones as the darkness spread around us.     

It took only a few steps to find them—Powell and Carolyn Frye, the architect. A dark hulking creature loomed over them, 12 feet tall or more, but I couldn’t make out much of its body. It was black as smoke. A dozen or more arms jutted from its middle, with sharp claws stained bloody. Two eyes glowed crimson on top of its torso as it stabbed at Powell’s body over and over, blood spurting from his neck and back as the claws jabbed and twisted at his flesh.

Frye was screaming. Powell’s head rolled back and forth as the creature clawed him, his eyes blank. Lifeless. I couldn’t help him, but Carolyn Frye was crawling away, his jacket ripped, gasping between screams. I darted forward and grabbed her wrist, and Rachel helped me haul her back, away from the monster.

What could I do? Only the dawn, Sophia Broadtree had said. I couldn’t fight this. I know how to stake vampires and exorcise demons, but this thing was out of my league. I hated to leave Powell, but there was nothing I could do with the creature tearing him apart.

So we helped Carolyn to her feet. She stopped screaming and just stared at Powell’s blood-soaked body, shaking, until Rachel gently pulled her away. 

The creature roared behind us, and I felt the ground shake. Rachel and I tugged at Carolyn’s arms until she got her balance and could run on her own, but by that time we could feel hot breath on our necks and the swish of claws slashing the air over our heads.

Carolyn stumbled. I grabbed her roughly, and Rachel shoved her shoulder. “Come on!” she shouted over the growling at our backs. 

We ran. The ground was unsteady, branches and stones sliding under our feet, and the air felt hot and menacing as we gasped for our breath. I thought I felt the bite of a claw jab at the back of my shirt and found that I really could run faster, half-dragging Carolyn with me as I kept an eye on Rachel. She glanced over, spotting me, and grimaced with disgust. At Carolyn, at the monster, at me—I didn’t know. I only wanted to get as far away as possible.

I saw light ahead of us. I felt like we’d been running for most of a football field, or longer, and my legs were wobbling with every step further. I bit my lip and put my head down, determined not to fall over, terrified of what would happen if it did.

Then we were out of the darkness. The beach lay before us, waves calmly lapping at the shore. I fell to my knees and Carolyn collapsed, gasping. Rachel crouched behind us, hands on her knees, and spit at the ground. “Wow,” she muttered.

I looked back. No sign of the beast. The beach was safe. For now. 

 

Back at the cabin we gave Carolyn a bottle of water as she caught her breath. “What—what was that?”

            Rachel looked at me. I sighed. “I don’t know exactly. But it’s something that doesn’t want your resort to tear up the community. Something that can’t be stopped. It killed Maurice, and now it’s killed Hugo. I don’t think it will stop.”

            She looked me over. She wanted to tell me I was crazy. I’m used to that. But after seeing Powell torn to bloody shreds, she couldn’t argue. She just nodded.

            “What were you two doing out there?” Rachel asked.

            Carolyn gulped some water. “Do you have anything stronger?”

            “Just beer.” I got her one.

            “Hugo was obsessed with what happened to Maurice. He didn’t want to talk about it because he didn’t want us to freak out. I thought he was being stupid, that it was just a bear or a wolf or something, but he wanted to come out here, he insisted. So I came with him to prove it was nothing. Except—” She gulped some beer. “Then it got dark. And that—that thing was on top of us. What was it?” she asked again.

            I shook my head. “No idea.”

            

We took Carolyn Frye back to her motel. I don’t know what she told her colleagues, but the next day Varner Sutton announced it wasn’t going ahead with the resort. We saw the sheriff’s car and an ambulance down the road, but Sheriff McIntyre didn’t come back to question us. Probably she didn’t want to hear what we’d tell her.

A day later, the city newspaper broke the story about the mayor and half the town council being in Varner Sutton’s pocket. I don’t know what the response in the town was—uproar? Rioting? Drag racing down Main Street?—because by then Rachel and I were packing to go home. 

            I was zipping up my suitcase when we heard a knock on the door. “Think the townspeople are here with torches and pitchforks?” Rachel asked.

            “I’ll try to die bravely while you escape.” I steeled myself for the worst as I opened the door.

But it was Ryan, the Varner Sutton man we’d met out at Turtle Lake. “Uh, hi.” He looked inside. “Can I come in for a second?”

“What can we do for you?” I asked when we were seated in the living room.

“I’m leaving. We’re all leaving, I’m the one of the last people left. People are pretty mad at us.” He rubbed his hands nervously. “I just wanted to say—when I met you out at that lake, well, after you guys left I stuck around. For a long time, until dark. Maurice said he’d heard something at night—a few nights before he, uh, it happened, and I wanted to see what it was.”

He crossed his arms, hugging himself. “I saw them. These little people, flying everywhere. Singing something I couldn’t make out. It was—like magic. Then I tried to catch one, like a firefly? In my hand. And then . . .” He took a deep breath. “I saqw something. In the lake. Just a shadow, but it was rising up, out of the water, and I—I ran. I don’t know what it was, but i—after I talked to Carolyn yesterday, after Hugo got—you know? I knew what it was.” He sighed. “I’m glad we’re getting out. And I’m glad I’m going home.” He stood up. “Just wanted you to know.”

We shook hands, and we watched him walk up the road to his car. Rachel put her arm through mine. “Nice of him to stop by.”

“I guess we did a good thing. Even if it cost the town a lot of money.”

“It could have cost them a lot of lives.”

I nodded. 

Rachel nudged me. “One last swim?”

“I packed our suits already.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why did we even bring them? We never wore them once.”

I grinned. “Good point. Let’s go.”

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