The Shuddering (35 page)

“Janey,” he said, but she didn’t respond. She shivered, her teeth chattering behind her wind-chapped lips. “Jane,” he whispered. “I’m going to go, okay?”

Whether she understood or not, she didn’t say a word. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed against the lump in his throat, and pressed a gloved hand to his face. He couldn’t let it end this way, not without a final fight. He owed it to her, owed it to everyone. This trip had been his idea, his demand. He had wanted them back together for one last time, a farewell to Colorado, if only for the memories. Pressing a kiss to Jane’s forehead, he held
her close for a moment before backing away. He turned to the supply basket, slowly lifted the pot with the last remaining pint of blood, and shook his head. He knew it was pointless, but it would make him feel better—and so he tipped it over his sister’s head, pouring the last of it onto her hat and the shoulders of her jacket. And then he took the final pool cue and turned away from her, staring ahead at the creatures who waited.

The landscape blurred around him as he cursed himself for what he’d done. He would have bled himself dry for his father’s pistol, would have sold his soul to the devil for two rounds, for the smell of gun powder and the taste of metal in his mouth. He closed his eyes, the backs of his eyelids glowing orange in the sunshine, remembering the summers he and Jane had spent up here, exploring the forest without a shred of fear. He remembered when they were kids, when they had wandered too far away from the cabin, had gotten turned around only to realize they couldn’t remember which way was which. Jane had sat on a fallen tree trunk, crying into her hands, her yellow dress glowing in the sunlight like a beacon of hope. Back then he had promised her the same thing: that they’d be okay, that they’d find their way home. Except that time they had. Hand in hand, he had her through the trees, not knowing where he was going, blind faith pulling him forward, until he caught a glimpse of the cabin and knew they were safe. It was what he had hoped for this time as well. There had been holes in his plan, but he had to believe. He had wanted to save his sister the way he had saved her before—because that was what he
had
to do; that was why there were two of them: to protect each other, to never let each other down.

Jane finally managed to look up from where she was sitting, her expression dazed. He watched her, waited for her to come to the bitter realization that they had reached the end, yearned for her to tumble headlong into another bout of hysterics. But
instead of dread and panic, a haunting smile drifted across her blood-soaked face. She was somewhere else, far away from that highway, and Ryan was glad…because he wasn’t ready for that final good-bye.

The creatures lingered in the shadow of the trees, that ghostly, guttural groan filling the silence. They snapped their teeth and prepared themselves to pounce if Ryan dared breach the perimeter of darkness and light. But despite those monsters salivating over their next meal, the breeze that drifted across Ryan’s face eased him into an eerie calm. In the otherwise still outdoor air, it drifted around him like a phantom, and for the slightest moment he didn’t feel as alone as he knew he was. Drawing his hand across his eyes, he began to walk away, leaving Jane behind. Oona quietly trotted beside him, her barking silenced by what he could only assume was her own realization: there was nothing left to do. They were both at fate’s doorstep, and there was no other decision left to make.

He stepped toward the shadow that was slowly growing wider, that would eventually overtake the hill. He looked up at the sky, the sun still shining bright. Oona whined as she looked up at her owner, and Ryan recognized understanding in her eyes. She knew. Of course she knew. She was a fighter, and so was he.

He looked ahead, those creatures watching him with interest.

His fingers tightened around his weapon.

His weight shifted to his toes.

And then he ran.

The stereo was turned up loud enough to rattle the windows of the Land Cruiser, but that was the way they liked it—loud and fast as the trees whipped past the car, each icy turn taken just a
little too fast, each mile of highway rolling beneath them with reckless abandon. Troy sucked in a lungful of smoke while his right arm jutted out the rolled-down passenger window, his hand skating along the cold current just beyond the car. Carla and Allison sat in the backseat, singing along with the music between bouts of drunken laughter, the bottle of Jack they’d cracked open three hours prior nearly half gone. Sid was the only sober one of the bunch, but he intended on remedying that as soon as they reached their destination.

“Do you see this?” he asked, dipping his head to bring his chin level with the top of the steering wheel, gazing up at a mountain covered in fresh snow. “It’s incredible,” he said. “I haven’t seen snow like this in years, man. This is going to be off the hook.”

Troy rolled his head to the side, offering his friend a lazy grin. “Gonna tear it up,” he mused. “Gonna tear. It. Up.”

The Land Cruiser took another curve, fishtailing when it caught a spot of black ice beneath a back tire. The group tensed, holding their breath in unison as the music kept on, the thud of bass shaking the door panels. Sid eased his foot off the gas, taking the needle of the speedometer down from sixty to forty-five.

“Goddamn,” he grumbled, turning the music down a notch, ready to complain about how whoever had salted the road had done a shitty job. But he didn’t get the chance. The SUV took another mountain curve and Sid slammed on the brakes, the girls flying forward, both of them crashing into the seats ahead of them with a squeal.

“What the
fuck
, Sidney!” Allison screamed.

“Great,” Carla snapped, holding the bottle of Jack at arm’s length, the front of her shirt and pants soaked in alcohol.

But the boys didn’t respond. They were too busy staring at the girl huddled along the side of the road, shivering, covered in blood.

“Holy shit,” Troy said, his cigarette clinging precariously to the swell of his bottom lip.

Sid slowly rolled the Toyota forward, road grit crunching beneath the tires.

“We’re stopping?” Allison asked.

“Jesus, Allison.” Troy craned his neck back. “You want to leave an injured human being along the side of the fucking road?”

“What if it’s a trick?” Carla asked, sounding tense. “What if she’s a decoy and some psychopath is waiting for a car full of suckers to stop and help, only to slash our throats?”

“Ridiculous,” Sid said beneath his breath, easing the car along the side of the road. “You guys are drunk.”

“I bet she’s one of those wild people, the kind that live in the woods all their lives. I bet she has rabies,” Carla said, searching for something to dry herself off with. “Which you deserve to get after that little stunt, Sid.” She dropped her voice an octave. “Fucking asshole.”

Sid pulled the e-brake and both boys immediately popped their doors open while the girls watched them, Allison’s face twisting with concern, Carla rolling her eyes at the whole thing.

Troy was unsteady on his feet, the Jack making him sway. He immediately fell behind, but Sid’s steps were balanced, slowly closing the distance between himself and the girl along the side of the road. He shot Troy a look, holding out a hand to tell his friend to stay back before crouching a safe distance away.

She was sitting in the last slice of sunlight as if to warm herself—the wedge of sun not more than a few feet wide.

“Hello?” Sid said, nervously catching his lip between his teeth. “Miss? Can you hear me?”

But the girl didn’t respond; she only trembled, mute. Sid cast his gaze down the road ahead. There was blood—lots of it. There
must have been some sort of accident, but where were the cars? Where were the bodies?

Sid narrowed his eyes, inching closer to the girl, his nose wrinkling as soon as he got a whiff of whatever covered her. “Hey, there,” he said, unsure of himself. “Are you okay? Were you in an accident? Are you hurt?”

Just as Sid was sure the girl wasn’t going to reply again, he was startled by the weak whimper that bubbled up from her throat.

“Troy!” Sid searched for his friend. “Help me!”

“Dude.” Troy wavered in the shadow of the road, holding up what looked to be a broken pool cue in his right hand. “What the fuck is this?”

Sid shook his head, rising to his feet. “This isn’t right,” he decided. “We need to call somebody. She needs help.”

Troy threw the pool cue into the trees, craned his neck back toward the Land Rover, and yelled, “Call somebody!”

A moment later Carla yelled back. “No reception, genius. Who would have thought?”

“We can’t leave her here,” Sid said, looking back to the girl. “We need to take her into town, to the police station or the clinic or something.”

“The cabin is closer,” Allison called out. “My parents have a landline. We can call from there.”

“She smells like crap,” Troy whispered. “You really want to put her in your car?”

Sid scowled at his friend. “Are you kidding?”

Troy held his hands up in surrender. “It’s your car,” he muttered. “Hey, man, whatever.”

“Miss?” Sid crouched down again, extending a hand to the girl the way someone would to a dog. “We’re going to help you up, okay? We’re going to take you with us where it’s safe and warm.” He slowly touched her sleeve, and when she didn’t jump
back or scream or try to claw him, he closed the distance, sliding his arm around her to help her up. Troy was reluctant, but he eventually fell into step, helping Sid lead the stranger to their car.

Carla and Allison nearly sat on top of each other in the backseat, trying to give the feral-looking girl the most room possible, both of them shielding their mouths and noses from the stench. The smell was bad enough to make Sid’s eyes water, but he kept the windows rolled up and blasted the heater, if only to get their passenger warm.

After a few minutes of silence, there was a murmur from the backseat.

“Where are we going?” the girl asked, her words hardly above a whisper, her bloodied hair hanging in front of her face.

After a beat of silence, Allison finally replied. “To my parents’ cabin.”

“In town?” the girl asked, slowly looking up to look up at Allison and Carla.

“No,” Allison said. “Town is almost twenty-five miles away. The cabin is just up the road by the lake.”

“The lake…” the girl echoed weakly.

“Yeah, the lake in the woods.”

Suddenly the girl began to panic. She pulled at the door handle, as if ready to jump out of the car, but it remained shut, keeping her locked inside. She slammed her hands against the window, leaving bloody handprints against the glass as Allison and Carla gasped.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Troy twisted in his seat, reaching back to try to soothe their passenger. “It’s cool, man, we’re going to get you some help, okay? Just sit tight. We’re almost there.”

But the girl was thrashing. She spun around in the seat and pounded the back window with her fists, sobbing to be let out of the car.

“Jesus, hurry up, Sid!” Carla yelled from the back as Sidney eased the car off the highway and onto the road that would take them to Allison’s parents’ place.

“What the hell did you just sign us up for?” Troy asked Sid beneath his breath. “I thought we were going boarding, man. I thought we were going to carve the slopes, not play search and fucking rescue.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Sid insisted. “We’re going to call for help, someone will pick her up. First thing tomorrow we’ll be on the mountain.”

“Better be, man.” Troy sulked. “I’m not letting another season go by without putting my ass in a chair li—” His words tapered off as he furrowed his eyebrows, leaning forward to peer through the windshield.

“What?” Sid asked, but he saw what Troy was looking at before Troy had the chance to reply. A tall pine was swaying in the distance while its brothers stood perfectly still, rocking as though someone was shaking it by its base. “Elk,” Sid concluded. “They rub their antlers against the tree trunks.”

It was only after Troy leaned back in his seat that Sid realized the silence had returned. He craned his neck, shooting a look toward the backseat and the strange girl they’d picked up. She was pressed up against the door, so close to the window her nose was almost touching the glass.

“It’s just elk,” he repeated, trying to soothe her. “Or someone cutting down a tree for firewood or something. Happens all the time.”

But she continued to stare at the shuddering pine in the distance.

Her eyes wide.

So impossibly wide.