Blood in the Woods Page 28

  “Get off the road!” I yelled, startling Jack and the others.

  The wheels of the vehicle squealed as the driver put the pedal to the metal, and Jack turned the bike sharply to the left, sending us rolling down a small hill into the bushes at the side of the road – and his instinct saved our lives.

  Justin and Chase rolled down the hill, stopping a couple of feet in front of us. They ditched their bikes and hid in the bushes. The vehicle ground to a sudden halt, and the reverse lights popped on. Jack and I low crawled on our bellies like soldiers, and came to a rest in a thick bush only several feet away from Justin and Chase. I was scared out of my mind, we’d thought we were in the clear, thought we were home free, but had been so dreadfully wrong. I watched the vehicle as it came to a stop straight in front of us. The driver cut the engine and lights off, a door opened and I heard feet touch the asphalt.

  “Yoo-hoo,” a voice taunted, “where are my little tough guys at?”

  I couldn’t think, my mind was spinning way too much for that. I heard whistling in front of me, an eerily out of place, upbeat tune, and then I heard a second pair of feet make contact with the asphalt.

  “Stop making this so hard on yourselves,” a deep voice boomed into the night. “If you don’t come out, we’ll just have to come in and get you. And you don’t want that to happen, boys.”

  I’ve heard that voice before - but where?

  Suddenly, the moon made its presence known from behind the darkened clouds, providing us with much-needed illumination, and when I looked over at Jack, his face was one of absolute terror. I glanced over at Justin, who had a hand over Chase’s mouth to keep him quiet. Poor Chase looked like he was about to wail. Justin looked back at me as if he were waiting on my direction, but I still couldn’t reason, let alone take command. In frustration, I pulled at my hair, as if that would kickstart my brain.

  “Come out, goddamn it!” a voice yelled out impatiently.

  Banging hard against the vehicle came next, and I knew they were trying to scare us out of hiding. And now that it wasn’t completely dark out anymore, I saw that the truck was the red one we’d seen earlier on the overpass.

  “I’m going to give ya’ll to the count of three, sort of how your Grandfather did to me – remember that, boy?” the deep voice asked.

  In that instant, I knew who the owner of that sinister, baritone voice was –the fuckin’ mailman – and he was one of them!

  “Go in there and get the little bastards,” came the woman’s voice from inside the vehicle. “Quit playing around with them, for fucks sake!”

  I watched as the men’s feet moved closer to the side of the road. They were about to come in after us, and suddenly I felt the urge to cry. I put my face into the palms of my hands and began weeping. I felt Jack scoot over to me and place his arm over my back.

  “We need to run, Jody,” Jack whispered. “If we don’t, they’re gonna catch us for sure.”

  I snorted back the tears and I felt thick, warm snot run down my throat.

  “Where do we go?” I asked, wiping the snot from my nose, “there’s nowhere to run to, Jack”

  “There’s that driveway at the bend in the road. The one we saw yesterday, remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe somebody lives down there. They can help us.”

  “One,” the mailman counted, his voice in the night cold and menacing.

  “I’m fucking scared, Jack,” I admitted, my whole body trembling.

  “I’m scared too, Jody, but we gotta run if we want to live,” Jack said with tears running down his face. “I think they’re really going to kill us.”

  “Two,” the mailman raised his voice.

  I peered out through the bushes, and saw a set of grubby sneakers on their way down the hill towards us. I looked to Jack and he nodded his head; he was good to go. I grabbed a stick from under the bush and threw it at Justin. It hit the kid in the leg and he turned to me. Silently, I moved my lips, forming the word run, which he acknowledged. As the mailman made his way down the hill, I reached over and clasped Jack’s hand.

  “THREE!” the mailman yelled.

  “GO!” I screamed, as I shot up from the earth with lightning speed.

  Jack and I darted by Justin and Chase, who were only just picking themselves up off the ground. I heard the popping and rustling of branches, leaves and twigs as one of the men entered after us – I didn’t know which one and the truth is, I really didn’t care. I just ran and ran until I came out by the pine tree that Jack, the girls and I had conspired under just the day before. I continued to run until I crossed the street, and then kicked it into second gear as I made it onto the overgrown driveway.

  “Move your ass, Jody!” Jack yelled out. He was right behind me, but I could feel the presence of someone else, too.

  The truck’s engine started up, and when the lights came on, it casted four shadows upon the ground – the one in front was mine, to my right was Jack’s, on my left was either Justin or Chase, and last but not least, furthest back was the giant shadow of a man.

  “Help,” I cried out, “HELP US!”

  “Somebody help us!” Justin echoed, and I knew it was him behind me, and not Chase.

  I pumped my arms hard and hustled down the driveway that was illuminated by the truck’s high beams. I heard its engine roar and dared a glance over my shoulder for the first time. Chase was nowhere to be seen, and Mitch – I’d remembered the mailman’s name – was flagging down the truck. He climbed in and it rolled steadily up the driveway.

  There was an overgrown field surrounded by a rusted barbed wire fence to my left, its towering grass a light blue hue under the moonlight, and the dark woods were to my right. And as we ran blindly into unchartered territory, an old, raggedy house appeared in the distance like a gift from the night itself.

  I raced toward the house, with the sound of the truck’s engine getting ever closer, and I spied a small shed off to the side, on the very edge of the woods. I was torn between the shed and the house, deciding at the last second to run to the house.

  At the house, I raced up the front stairs and grabbed the doorknob. I jiggled it furiously as Jack and Justin stumbled into me, desperate to get the thing to yield.

  “Open the damn door, Jody!” Justin screamed at me.

  “Hurry up, they’re coming –” Jack urged.

  “I can’t open it!”

  “Move!” Justin took charge.

  I stepped out of the way and Justin kicked in the front door, sending it slamming up against the wall inside the house.

  The truck hurtled along the driveway, made a hard left which sent its back end fish-tailing. The truck’s fat tires flung up clods of dirt and mud, which soared through the air as the truck came to a rest mere yards in front of us. The passenger door was slung open and Mitch the Mailman stepped out. His hair wasn’t in a ponytail like when we’d had our altercation on Rhine Road; he wore it perfectly straight, down his back like a woman’s. His face was pale in the harsh glare of the truck’s lights, and he had a ferocious countenance that fair chilled the soul.

  The woman was driving the truck, and when she cut the engine, the headlights faded and everything turned black. The headlights had been our friend thus far, having helped us navigate to this decrepit sanctuary, and now the only light that was provided by the moon.

  “Get in, Jody!” Jack bellowed at me from inside – he and Justin were already in the house.

  I ran in and slammed the door shut behind me. Jack searched the nearest wall, looking for a light switch, stumbling over unseen objects that were concealed by the dark and scattered across the floor. The room was damned near pitch black, but as my eyes adjusted, I could make out that we were standing in the living room of a crumbling house. There was a long table of sorts in the center, draped with a black sheet. A mantle was behind that, which was home to several dark-colored candles. The smell inside the house was cloying, sour; it made my nose twitch and I took soft, shallow brea
ths to avoid inhaling the stink any more than I had to. It reminded me of rust and salt and stale piss – it was gross.

  “The lights don’t work,” Jack reported, frantically wiggling the light switch.

  “Where’s Chase?” Justin was worried.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, fighting back the dismay in my voice.

  A rock smashed through one of the large, grimy windows, raining glass over Jack’s back. He groaned loudly and grabbed at his neck, where the glass had lacerated his skin.

  “Come outside, boys,” Mitch teased. “You forgot someone!”

  I looked at Justin. “They must have caught Chase,” I mumbled.

  “Oh God please no –” Justin whimpered and broke down for the first time that night. Tears welled and ran their course down Justin’s face, and he fell to his knees, as if he were ready to pray.

  Jack walked over to him. “Get up, Justin,” my friend demanded, grabbing Justin’s biceps to help him to his feet. “We don’t have the time for this.”

  “I can’t,” Justin cried, swaying like a drunk. “We’re gonna die... we’re all going to die.”

  “Don’t say that,” I said, and felt myself starting to cry as well.

  A rock busted through another window, only this time it came from somewhere further back in the house. It became apparent that the crazy people outside were circling the house, playing with us like a cat plays with a mouse – perhaps hoping they would catch us trying to escape out the back door.

  “Help!” a voiced cried out from outside – it was Chase. “Help me, Justin! Please!”

  “Shut your fucking mouth, twerp,” we heard the harelip man snarl, and that was followed by a loud slap.

  “Pick him up, Scott,” Mitch instructed.

  The harelip man’s name was Scott - finally, after all this time, I knew the ugly bastard’s name!

  “Rebecca?” Mitch’s voice echoed out through the darkness. No response. “Rebecca!” he called once more, but still there came no reply.

  Jack, Justin and I stood in the darkness of that musty, stinking old house and tried to listen to Mitch and Scott talking – but their voices were too muffled for us to make out much more than the odd, disjointed word. But, loud and clear was Chase’s forlorn sobbing, his heart-wrenching whimpers penetrating the old walls. Then, from inside the house, we heard a long, drawn-out squeaking noise – the sound of a door closing on rusted hinges; evidently, there was someone in the house with us, and it wasn’t Mitch or Scott.

  “We gotta move,” Jack said, desperately looking over his shoulder towards the sound, “and we gotta move now.”

  “Okay, we’d better stay low,” I suggested. I dropped to my hands and knees, “they won’t be able see us through the windows.”

  Justin was still on his knees, the trail of tears glistening on his face.

  “Come on, Justin,” I urged, and took off crawling.

  It was a rough, hardwood floor, filthy with dirt, sand and mud which stuck to the palms of my hands as I shuffled after Jack. We moved along as quickly and as quietly as we could, making our way past the long table and heading towards what I guessed was the kitchen. I took a quick look behind to make sure that Justin was following us, and I spotted something dark – darker even than the room itself – moving across the floor behind him. I blinked and whatever it was went way, so I dismissed it as a trick of the inky shadows and I went back to crawling.

  We made it to the kitchen, and the floor turned to tile, which was even filthier than the hardwood. There was a door to the left, sporting a rusted golden chain and a deadbolt held it shut; the only thing that separated us from the monsters outside. A stench invaded my senses, it smelled like bad plumbing, or festering mold, hanging in the air like some malevolent spirit.

  I crawled further into the kitchen, placing my back against the cabinets beneath the sink. I paused, taking a deep breath to try calming my nerves and looked on as Justin crawled into the room. He came to rest next to me, slamming his back against the cabinet and shutting a small, half-open cabinet door so loudly that Mitch, Scott and whoever was in the house with us had to have heard it.

  “Shhh!” Jack hissed, standing up warily.

  He tiptoed over to a drawer; grasped it and pulled it open as quietly as its corroded runners would allow. I heard a thump from the living room. Jack shut the drawer and threw himself down to the ground, his breathing labored. It was then that I noticed he was holding an old steak knife close to his chest. Another thump came, then a couple of hard bumps on the outside of the house. I focused my attention back towards the living room. It sounded like a blind ghost was walking around in there, a clumsy one at that. Suddenly, the door shook violently and in unison, the three of us screamed.

  “Open the fucking door, Rebecca!” Scott yelled.

  “Jody!” Jack screamed.

  Rebecca lunged up from the floor and grabbed my throat in her long, powerful fingers. She’d been crawling behind us and was covered in a thick black cloak – the nebulous shape I thought I’d seen earlier and ignored. Her fingernails dug deep into the soft skin around my trachea and I began to panic as my airway was restricted. I flailed my arms wildly, my hands snagging in her hair – I pulled hard on it. Rebecca’s head snapped backwards and she screamed with anger.

  “Let him go, you bitch!” Justin screamed and kicked the woman in the side of her face.

  She released me and I let go of her hair, stumbling to my feet and gasping for breath. Justin scrambled to his feet, but Rebecca lunged forwards and wrapped her arms around his legs, which brought him right back down to the ground with a winded yowl. Acting instinctively, I jumped on the woman’s back and punched her in the back of the head as hard as I could, again and again.

  I rained as many blows on Rebecca’s head as I could, and Justin managed to wiggle his legs free of her grasp. Jack ran over, and pulled me off of the woman. I was severely winded and my knuckles were black and blue from pounding her skull, and throbbing with pain.

  Exhausted, I fell to my knees. Rebecca crawled across the floor, moaning with pain and rubbing the back of her head. Before I could catch my next breath, Jack brought the knife up above his head and walked over to Rebecca.

  “Jack, no!” I cried.

  Too late.

  The steak knife arced down fast and dug into Rebecca’s shoulder. She unleashed an un-Godly scream and flailed around on the filthy tiles. Jack stumbled backwards, his eyes wide with shock and fixed on the steak knife that stuck upright in the woman’s back, and pressed himself up against the kitchen door. I threw myself against the cabinets once again, and clamped my hands over my ears to muffle the screams.

  “Let’s go before the other two come in!” Justin said, scrabbling to his feet.

  A piercing smash of glass reverberated from the living room, and seconds later, Mitch stepped into the kitchen with a look of complete surprise on his face.

  Neither Jack nor I could move, but Justin was ready to make a run for it. He shot me a regretful cast and tried to barge his way around Mitch, but sadly, his strategy didn’t work out so well for him.

  Mitch grabbed Justin by the collar and slung him hard into the kitchen wall, showering chunks of damp plaster onto the dirt-strewn floor, and Justin slumped to the ground, unconscious.

  Rebecca was still screaming and flopping along the ground like a fish out of water, trying desperately to grab at the knife in her shoulder. Mitch knelt down and yanked the knife out of her, taking no trouble to spare the poor woman any further pain. A shrill squeal shot from Rebecca’s lips and Mitch rolled her over to her back.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Mitch growled, as if Rebecca’s agony was an annoyance to him. “Which one of the little bastards did this?”

  Rebecca was crying like a little kid, blood making the back of her cloak glisten wetly in the wan light, and between sobs, she pointed to Jack.

  Mitch glanced over at my blood brother, who was still pressed up against the door and clearly terrified ou
t of his mind. The mailman took two strides forward and grabbed Jack by both ears. Jack whimpered with pain and Mitch brought his knee up into Jack’s stomach, forcing every ounce of breath from his lungs. Jack fought for breath and collapsed to the ground in a fetal position, weeping uncontrollably.

  “Scott!” Mitch yelled up at the ceiling. “Get your ass in here! We got a problem!”

  I felt decidedly ill; my body temperature dropped, my skin felt cold and clammy, my head throbbed like a mad thing and I began dry heaving, the sour taste of bile and the fruit punch burning the back of my throat.

  Mitch stomped over to me and grabbed my purple, sweat-stained shirt, and pulled me to my feet. I tried in vain to get away from him, but he was far too strong, his huge hands were like meaty vises, unmovable and inherently tough. Our eyes met briefly and he gave me a sinister grin as I struggled against him, as if this were mere sport for his own delectation.

  He released one hand from my shirt, stretched his arm out wide to his side, and showed me his palm before bringing it forwards, hard across my face. The slap stung like an electric shock, and set my ears to ringing. He pulled that massive hand back once more, but this time, his hand turned to a fist, and all I remembered was seeing dancing stars behind my eyes right before I hit the tiles.

  ***

  I woke up on the living room floor with my hands and feet duct-taped together and my jaw throbbing with pain. I was pushed up against the mantle that lay directly behind the long, covered table in the dead center of the room. The candles on the mantle had been lit, and they illuminated the entire room with a ghostly orange, flickering glow. Justin was leaning up against me on my right, still out cold and Jack was to my left, wide awake and duct-taped just as I was.

  Once he saw I was conscious, Jack looked at me as if expecting me to help, but there really was nothing I could do. I noticed his eyelids were bright pink, his eyes a tad glassy – he looked horrible.

  I scanned around the room and saw that Chase was with us – tied up too. He’d been placed far away from Justin, Jack and me, up against the crumbling wall farthest across the room. Chase was the only one of us with duct-tape wrapped tightly around his mouth. For some reason Mitch, Rebecca and the hideous Scott wanted to keep the kid quiet.