Cheyenne Leo

1 Summertime This book is dedicated to my Mother, for her years of dedication as my editor; to my Baby Brother, who keeps me busy; to my Dad, who let me watch Horror Movies on the sly; to Dudley, my old dog, without whom I would not be here; to my supporters, on twitter and facebook, and in person, who enthusiastically offer their help whenever needed, to Sean, my first reviewer, and to a certain someone without whom this book would not be in paper­ you know who you are. Thankyou all. And also, I would like to dedicate this book to all of those that tried to hurt me, that tortured me, that tormented me, that promised to make my life miserable. This book is a testament to your failure. Heres to hoping the old rule shows true­ and what you gave me comes back to you times three. Happily, and sincerely, Cheyenne Leo. 2 Summertime This story is entirely fictional. Any similarities to real people, places, or events were entirely unintentional. The whole forest listened, the whisper of the breeze through the trees the only audible sound beyond the muffling effect of the evergreens. It was green here, each particle of matter soaked in the colour ­ each living thing saturated along with it, right down to the fungus that grew among the roots of the ancient trees. The silence was almost ominous here­ this world seemingly untouched by the scraping destruction of mankind, save for the one small dirt road, barely visible beyond clumps of grass and overgrown weeds hanging in the road. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of a vehicle, hitting potholes, the radio wailing along in the background of its engine. 3 Summertime The wheels hit another pothole, and Danielle gripped the steering wheel tighter to keep from popping out of the jeep altogether. Just as she got over the one, she would hit another. They were all but invisible against the brown dirt of the road beneath the green light filtered through the trees. She cursed as the jeep bottomed out briefly, a loud scraping sound coming from the floor beneath her feet. Branches of the surrounding trees hit the windshield, sweeping over her head, catching in her hair. Carefully, one hand left on the wheel, she plucked her earrings out of her ears and dropped them securely into the ashtray. Another branch suddenly whipped out and combed through her long, black hair­ yanking out a few of the tangles as it went. She winced, peering ahead, trying to see when the forest would clear. She clicked the radio to off, irritated by the clicks and white noise, punctuated by the occasional wail of the old rock song they were playing­ the best reception she had been able to get since leaving the highway. She leaned out the window slightly, slowing down as she saw more potholes coming. She peered ahead into the bush as she came to the next group. She was looking for a camp ground. As the barely existent road made a steep swerve to the left, she finally saw, up ahead, the first signs of civilization; a pair of outhouses. As she drove further along, the road cleared up, and soon she could hear, among the shouts and whistles of kids, the lapping of Glacier Lake against the rocky, sandy shore. She passed the first few tents, each green bathed occupant turning to stare as she rambled by, her gear fairly bouncing 4 Summertime out of the back as she came to another long row of potholes. She slowed even more as a group of kids, smacking each other over the heads with sticks and laughing hysterically at the pain, ran in front of the jeep. As she passed, a frazzled mother came streaking out of the bush after them, screaming about eyes and the possibility of losing them. Danielle laughed, turning in her seat to see the children screeching warnings to each other, laughing and running away, while the mother seized one stick and narrowly missed being smacked by another. The child on the other end of the confiscated stick yelled like an Aztec warrior, karate chopping her mother in the hip before she ran for dear life after her siblings. The road bent again here, and remembering the possibility of more children in the road, Danielle turned her attention back to the task at hand. As the road swerved, she was momentarily blinded by sunlight, and she finally saw the main campground. There were a plethora of tents here­ tents in the bush, tents on the beach. Beyond these, the calm and patient lake went about its own business, blissfully ignorant of the noise on the shore. Four and five tents to a campfire. Three and four people to a tent. People milled about here, shouting, laughing. It was a tiny community of fair weather friends, all grouped together for the glorious summer by the lake­ quickly evacuating at the first sign of chill. It was like a little city, if you could count tents as buildings. No animals would come here­ there were too many people, too much noise. This was known as the safest campground for miles. Only 40 feet from the shore, the forest towered up again, the ancient trees gnarled and hunched, casting their green light on all that lived below. It was 5 Summertime dangerous, it was widely known, to go too far into the forest; it was all old growth, and it was all too easy to lose your way in the uniform green surroundings. The children from behind the bend suddenly ran around the back of the jeep, screeching and hollering­ each holding a five dollar bill. “There went fifty dollars” she muttered to herself, grinning at the children’s excitement. They ran up to a once beige, dilapidated camper, each holding up their bill to show the old man who sat in a fraying lawn chair by the door, dozing. Catching sight of the money, he jerked up, stepping up into the rickety camper, returning moments later with various cans of budget pop, taking the bills, returning coins to the children’s outstretched hands. People passed back and forth over the road, holding up their hands to be sure Danielle saw them. It was a ritual­ they would hold up their hands, she would smile and nod, they would pass, and she would travel a further two inches before the next placid camper would hold up their hand, asking to cross. People gave her sympathetic looks as she crawled along like rush hour, but she didn’t mind. This is what she had come for­ to see the people, to see the communication. To swim and talk with people she didn’t see except for in the summer time. The dust kicked up by the feet of the crowd choked her now and then, but it was no worse than the air in the cities. The crowd suddenly cleared as she reached the edge of the main campground, and she carried on quickly up the remaining distance to her favorite campground­ a circular 6 Summertime spot, shielded by berry bushes on either side, with a little path that led off the site to the nearest outhouse. It was naturally defended from rain­ the branches touched overhead in the two mammoth evergreens that grew on either side of the campsite, but high enough they weren’t affected by the campfire. It was set back a bit, but you could still hear the lake­ especially when the nightly summer storm swept through, when the waves would crash on the shore like waves in the ocean. Easily defended from marauding snoopers, but close enough to the main campground if she felt like inviting people back. It was green here too, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust after coming out into the blaring sunlight by the lake’s calm, dark waters. Bringing the jeep to a squeaky stop, she stepped out quickly, stretching her back, aching from so long in the seat, hunched over to avoid branches and then stopping and starting to avoid people. She clunked around to the back, moving her box of firewood out of the way and grabbing the end of her tent, sticking out of its cloth cover. She pulled it out, dropping it on the ground by the tire. There was a pop sound, and the whole thing inflated, knocking Danielle over on her ass in the mud. “Shit.” Danielle rolled her legs underneath herself, raising herself up high enough to see into the back of the jeep. The bag of stakes lay on the smooth metal, the hammer too far away to reach. Her lower back aching from the impact, she rose to her feet and, grabbing the tent by its peak, raised it carefully up as not to rip the bottom and moved it carefully over closer to the fire pit. She ran back to the jeep, afraid lest a gust of wind should pick up the tent and carry it off­ she had ended up sleeping in the bed of the jeep just last year when that exact thing had happened, landing her expensive tent lid up in the lake. Not that the multitude of children weren’t greatly entertained by the sight. She had been 7 Summertime forced to head for the hills after the first night, having been soaked thoroughly when the intimidating August storms rolled through at midnight, the thunder nearly striking the trees that stood, netted together above her campsite. She tapped the first stake in, snapping the tent onto it. She pulled with all her body weight on the stake, making sure no wind could rip it out. Satisfied, she carried on with the task, and soon all eight stakes were in. She returned to the jeep, dropping the hammer into the back with a satisfying CLANG. She dragged the box of firewood over to the pit, dropping some kindling in and a few balls of paper. She lit the paper carefully with her windproof lighter, burning her fingers in the process. The kindling, dry as popcorn’s fart from being stored in the corner of her garage all year, caught quickly. She dropped a few logs on top of it all, and soon she had a crackling fire going. Finished with her camp, she plunked down at the picnic table provided and surveyed her temporary kingdom. There was booze in her cooler, no worries for that. But she hadn’t brought much food­ never did. She brought snacks and sandwiches but for everything else she walked down to the little diner on the other side of the campground. It was only for the summer, and it was just a shack with some tables out front­ but it did in a pinch. The fire banged suddenly, jerking her out of rest. She hopped up; investigating the source of the noise­ finding it was only sap bubbling up out of the hot wood. She went back to the jeep for the cooler and her sleeping bag. She left her clothes in the jeep­ it was safer, she thought, than if there was an emergency and she would have to get the hell out and leave all of her clothes behind. The tent was replaceable, but some of her clothes had been given to her by her grandparents, all dead now. As she turned back towards the fire, a voice caught her off guard. “Hey, short 8 Summertime stack” the voice belonged to a tall, skinny man, dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, sweating profusely from the almost pure humidity that hung here under the dense trees by the lake. “Hey, beanpole” she joked back, grinning at him over her shoulder. Jack Vance grinned at the back of her head, grabbing the second box of wood out of the bed and following her over to the fire. He plunked it on the ground, grabbing the one she had started and stacking it carefully on top. “You know you didn’t bring enough, right?” “What?” Danielle peered out at him through the open door of the tent. “Firewood.” he said, tapping the stacked boxes with his foot. “You didn’t bring enough for a week.” Danielle dropped her sleeping bag on top of the cooler she kept in the tent. “Well, maybe I will have to get some big strong man to go gather wood for Me.” she joked, fluttering her eyelashes comically. He rolled his eyes, turning back towards the trail to the main campground. “I’m going for dinner, will you come?” he asked over his shoulder. “I will be there soon, going to get changed first” she said, reaching into the back of the jeep, unzipping her bag. He disappeared around the bend in the trail, grumbling about how slow she was. She grabbed a dress, and running into the tent, changed as quickly as she could. In bare feet, as she always was in summer, she ran out of the campground, leaving the tent unzipped, and caught up with him on the trail to the main campground. They walked down to the diner together, gathering a few people on the way. A girl named Alice LaRocque came with, her bangs hanging down in her eyes. A red haired man named Andre Peters came along too, abandoning the fish he was trying to cook by rubbing it with salt and looking expectantly from the fish to the fire, as if it was just 9 Summertime going to jump in on its own accord. The fish ended up in the pan of the pop man, as the kids kept calling him, who Danielle had seen selling pop as she came in. The frazzled mother rested against the wall of the shack/diner, her children milling around the largest table, eating French fries and throwing hotdogs. Danielle shot her a sympathetic look as her group settled down as far away from the sticky children as they could get. “How have things been going?” Alice asked, spearing a French fry on the end of her toothpick. “Fine,” Danielle said, squirting ketchup on her food, “work has gotten more complicated­ Angela got fired last week so now I have her job to do as well.” “So quit” Jack said, laughing at himself. “I need the job.” Danielle said flatly, hoping to avoid another tirade about how they should all move to Vancouver. Alice, thankfully, interrupted. “We should get together more often” Alice said, nibbling on the edge of her speared French fry. “Not just up here in summer.” Andre and Jake lived in Vancouver, so they saw each other quite often, but Alice lived in golden, and Danielle lived in Ashville, just a few km away from the lake. Andre seemed intent on stuffing as much food into his mouth as he could at one time. Jack shuffled over closer to Alice, disgusted by Andre’s table manners. “What do 10 Summertime you all want to do tonight?” he asked, looking at his friend with guarded horror­ as if he was some kind of new bug he had never seen before. Danielle shrugged, looking down at her French fries. “We could just go back to my camp and party in private.” Danielle said, nibbling on the hard, crispy ones. “What about if we rent that Speedboat the pop man has up for rent?” Alice spoke up, grinning widely. Alice loved speedboats. “We could go down the way we went last year on foot­ only we could go farther this time.” Danielle nodded her mouth full. “How much is it?” Jack asked, pulling out his wallet. “100 bucks per night,” Alice said, her eyes glittering with excitement. “I’ll cover it” Jack said, grinning widely. “I got a promotion at work since last summer.” Andre, suddenly done, spoke up too. “I’ll spring for the life Jackets.” Danielle laughed. Of course safety conscious Andre would get the safety gear. “What time?” she asked, finishing her dinner. “Should we meet around 8?” Alice asked, looking from person to person. Danielle checked the clock on her cell. It was 6:45. “I’m good with that.” She said, dropping it back down on the table. The boys agreed, and soon she and Jack were headed back to her camp. Alice had gone to change, and Andre had gone to get his wallet. On the way, they stopped to see the pop man, who leaned against his camper door, snoozing in the late day sunlight. A painted cardboard sign was duct taped to the side of the camper, messy black lettering scrawled across it­ “Boat Rental­ 100/day.” “Hey, buddy.” Jack said, tapping the base of the chair with his foot. The old man jerked, snorting. “What?” he asked gruffly, glaring at them from deep­set, bloodshot eyes. Jack held up his hands in apology. “We wondered if we could rent your Boat for the night.” he said politely. The old man considered it for a minute. “S’long as you fill ‘er up when you bring ‘er back.” he slurred, 11 Summertime settling back down in his chair. “Last people left ‘er untied floatin’ by the shore without a drop of fuel.” He glared off towards the opposite shore, as if the attendant at the Gas spot was involved. “Well, that was rude.” Danielle observed, shifting from foot to foot. “Yea it was.” the old man said, reaching under his chair for his beer. “What time?” “Around eight, if that’s okay?” Danielle asked, leaving Jack opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. “Alright, but you might as well have the keys now.” the old man said, fishing them out of his pocket. “If you’re planning to go any good distance, you’ll need to get some gas by then.” Danielle nodded. They would have to cross the lake to the fuel spot on the other side, unless Andre had some­ he often brought some for his dirt bike. The old man dropped the keys neatly into her hand, grinning at the flummoxed Jack. Grumbling, he paid the pop man, and the two escaped just as the poor old man was once again drowned in children, come to get more soda to fuel their midnight escapades. Their mother, looking as stressed as ever, arrived just in time to get him to give them sugar free. “Hey, Mr. Pop man” one of the boys yelled, hopping up and down. “It’s going to be my birthday soon.” “Happy birthday!” the old man laughed, giving him back one of his quarters. Back at her camp, Danielle considered the three bathing suits she had brought with her. Jack sat on the picnic table, occasionally glaring in her direction to show his 12 Summertime annoyance with her behavior at the pop man’s camper. She ignored him, digging through her bag. Eventually she selected a red top and bottom, and cut off shorts and a t­shirt to wear over it all. Considering the possibilities of breaking toes on the Boat, she grabbed her high top sneakers too, zipped it all up, slid it under the jeep’s passenger seat, and locked the jeep up. She went into the tent, still ignoring her obstinate friend. “We should take this with us” she called out, sliding the cooler out of the tent opening before zipping it securely closed. “Why do we need a crap load of food?” Jack asked, distracted from his annoyance. “It’s not food, its booze” she said, changing quickly, lest he stand up and catch sight of anything through the clear plastic tent top. “Well, actually, there is some food.” she corrected herself, “but definitely mostly booze.” Jack opened the cooler. “You weren’t kidding” he laughed, pulling out two cans of beer. “I thought you didn’t drink?” he said, digging through the cooler. “Yea, that’s why there’s pop in there too.” she said, emerging from the tent holding her sneakers in her hand. She plunked down on the picnic table’s bench, raising her foot carefully onto the splinter friendly seat. Jack cracked open a beer, swigging down half in one gulp. “You always were generous to your friends,” he laughed, dropping the other beer back in and snapping the cooler shut again. She grinned, tying her shoelaces tight. “Hello?” Alice ducked around the bend at the mouth of the campsite, looking for her friends. “Did you get the keys?” she asked, fairly skipping over to sit beside Danielle on the bench. “Danielle negotiated it all, yes.” Jack said, remembering he was annoyed. Alice laughed, and, popping the cooler open, grabbed a beer. “Don’t you think you should wear shoes?” Danielle asked, frowning down at her friend’s bare feet. “Says the barefoot wonder.” Alice snorted. “Hey, I’m wearing Shoes” 13 Summertime Danielle laughed. “I won’t be the one with broken toes.” She said stoutly, tapping her foot off the ground. Jack checked his watch. “We should go on down to the Boat now, the old guy said we have to get it gassed up.” Jack led the way through the bushes on the far side of the campsite down a narrow path to the beach. “I didn’t even know that path was there.” Danielle said, making a mental note. They came to the beach quickly, Alice skipping over to the waiting Boat. “That is so not a speedboat” Danielle laughed, looking over the old, stained Boat. A simple outboard Boat motor hung off the back. “Hey!” The three turned and saw Andre, hurrying down the beach with three big gas cans­ one in each hand and one tied to the handle of the other, so that he walked tipped over to the left, like a blown­ down tree. “Woohoo!” Danielle laughed, waving at him. One of the rampant children followed closely behind him, holding a crayfish. Seeing the gleam of impending evil in the kid’s eye, Alice intervened. “Excuse me!” she shouted, waving down the beach, “you lost one!” the frazzled mother, busy distributing chips and marshmallows between the other 9 children, dropped what she was doing and ran down the beach, stopping the kid from dropping the angry Crayfish into the hood of Andre’s sweatshirt just in time. Dragging the kid away by his arm, much to his protest, she apologized to Andre fervently, and handed him ten dollars. Andre laughed, holding the money up for the others to see. “At this rate, I’ll make the gas money it took to get here back again” He handed the gas cans over to Jack, who began to fill up the little engine. “Hey, where are the life Jackets?” Alice asked, 14 Summertime walking around Andre like a prize fighter. “They didn’t have any left.” Andre said, referring to the ‘campground hosts’ who lived at the far edge of the property. “We don’t really need them, do we?” Jack asked, dropping the empty gas can on the beach. Danielle appeared suddenly at his elbow, carrying the cooler. He took it, plunking it down in the storage bin at the end of the Boat by the motor. “I guess not,” Andre said, laughing. “You guys can swim, right?” Danielle and Alice climbed in, using a bucket for a step, laughing and trying not to fall out again. Alice immediately scooted over to the cooler, grabbing out another beer while Danielle, unaccustomed to being in a Boat, sat down quickly on the Boat’s plastic bench that ran along the side. Andre jumped in rather than use the bucket, making the Boat slosh around dangerously, Alice losing her balance and landing face down in the bottom of the Boat, Jack clinging to the motor for dear life. Andre sat down quickly after that, across from Danielle. Alice, shrieking in disgust, leapt up onto the seat beside Danielle, flicking fish guts out of her hair. Danielle cowered against the side of the Boat, laughing and holding her hand out to block the flying guts. Andre, having caught the worst of the barrage, jumped kamikaze style off the side of the Boat, washing them off in the water. Jack, thoroughly annoyed by this point, kicked the beer Alice had dropped out of the way, and started to pull the cord. Andre pulled himself out of the water and, using the bucket this time, climbed back in, shaking his head, spraying Danielle with water. The bucket cracked, popping over on its side in the water and floating away past the engine. After a few quick pulls, the engine sputtered to life, and the Boat began to move down the shoreline, quickly leaving the campground behind. Alice was laughing, hanging onto the side of the Boat to keep from tipping over. Andre 15 Summertime put on his sunglasses, leaning against the side of the Boat with a wide smirk. Danielle had to laugh­ she knew in about ten seconds, he was probably going to throw up­ a theory that was confirmed as he spun around, the smirk disappearing as his undigested dinner came up. Alice, thoroughly grossed out, fished a bottle of stomach pills out of her purse, which she had strapped across her body, popped one out and passed it to him, her fingers withdrawn so as not to touch the offending person. He took it, but couldn’t swallow it­ he was still leaning over the side. Danielle turned away, looking out over the lake. The sun hung low and hot in the sky, not yet sunset, but not midday any more. Bugs skipped over calm places on the lake, and here and there, fish jumped to catch them. The lake stood out like a big dark eye looking up from the earth, surrounded by the never­ending green of the forest. Behind them, closer to the campground, there were other Boats; some big, mostly small. The tiniest one, a little red rowboat with two little kids in it, was doing laps around the tallest Boat, the adults on the big Boat leaning over the sides, talking to the kids. The tents on shore looked like flags from here­ like a little human army up against the hunched and towering army of trees. The gas spot on the other side was empty, the owner sitting forlornly on the dock, waiting for customers. Their Boat was fast approaching a little island, situated about 40 feet away from shore. “Watch out for the island, Jack!” Alice shrieked nervously, grabbing onto Danielle. He easily avoided it, rounding a bend in the lake, and when Danielle could finally turn back towards the campground, it had disappeared behind the trees, the only evidence of its existence being the tiny red rowboat, a tiny red speck on the water, floating a bit farther out than any other Boat at that time. As they passed the little island, a single tent appeared there, a 16 Summertime child sitting on top of an upturned canoe, gnawing on a piece of smoked fish as they passed. As they traveled farther away, even this faded away, and it soon seemed like they were alone here­ like they had the entire lake to themselves. The roar of the engine drowned out conversation, so the four of them went along together, alone. Alice sat in the corner of the Boat, already apparently bored, and drank beer. Andre, still sick, leaned over the side, the stomach pill gripped in one hand. Danielle, tired of looking back, moved shakily over to sit beside Alice, reaching past her for a cola. “Feeling sick too, now?” Alice asked, leaning away. “No, just wobbly in the legs.” Danielle laughed, opening her pop. “Hey, Jack” Andre yelled, catching the girls’ attention. “Are you okay?” Jack wobbled by the engine, his head dropping, his eyes rolling back. Suddenly his knees gave way, and he fell to the floor of the Boat, cracking his head on the edge of the plastic bench. The Boat swerved, Jack sliding to the other side of the Boat, his body weight pinning Andre’s feet to the floor as he tried to get up, tried to catch the turning engine before it turned too far. Alice and Danielle were screaming, Danielle holding on tight to Alice even as her friend was falling out of the Boat, her head almost level with the rushing, black, churning water agitated by the turning of the Boat. The engine roared, and the Boat sped towards the shore. Danielle pulled with all her might, and Alice popped back into the Boat, sliding onto the floor with a gasp. She dove for the engine, but too late; the Boat, going as fast as the engine would go, hit the rocks on the shore, skimming over the sharp points with a metallic scream. Her scream was lost in the sound as the Boat got air, flying up over the rocks and into the imminent forest on the unpopulated shore. Trees flew past as the four friends clung for dear life to the Boat, a 17 Summertime terrifying projectile in the air. Danielle turned the engine every which way, her mind frozen in that state. Andre, free of Jack, was trying to hold onto the unconscious man while getting Alice away from the dangerous, hard plastic bench. The Boat’s nose began to dip down, and Danielle, remembering the danger she was in, dove for the bottom of the Boat, clinging to the base of the engine. The Boat came down in a hazelnut thicket, ripping the bushes out of the ground, spraying dirt every which way. The jerk snapped Danielle’s body forward against Andre’s back, forcing her to let go of the engine. As the back of the Boat hit the ground, the engine ripped out of its place, stabbing sharply down into the metal bottom of the Boat, the stick ripping a hole right where her head had been. The Boat skimmed across the forest floor, knocking down saplings, the sound horrendous, deafening­ Alice felt as if she would choke on it. She clung to Andre’s arm, her head bowed over Jack’s, Danielle holding onto the two of them for dear life as the Boat bounced and bucked as it destroyed the surrounding forest. Suddenly, the Boat’s left side came up, groaning and cracking, rolling them out of the Boat, dropping them violently on the ground. They fell in a heap, Andre on the bottom. The Boat came neatly down on top of them, slamming down into the dirt, encompassing them in sudden darkness. The sudden silence after the screaming and howling of the crash was shocking. Danielle could hear Alice, trapped under Jack, who was underneath herself, sobbing. Somewhere, Andre moaned long and low, like he was in pain. Danielle sat up on her knees, her head bouncing off the bottom of the Boat. Realizing she was kneeling on her friends, she scrambled off, kneeling in the dirt. She tried to look around, but the confines were limiting­ all she could see, from here, was someone’s arm stretched out at an odd 18 Summertime and painful looking angle and a beam of light coming through the rip made by the engines stick. She stretched her limbs as best she could, realizing that she was fine­ there were no broken bones, she wasn’t even bleeding. Her back ached, though­ and for a few moments it made it hard to move her legs beneath her. She crawled carefully around Jack, checking to make sure he wasn’t pinched anywhere by the Boat. She heaved him over, lifting him off of Alice, who scrambled to get out, still sobbing. Andre moaned again, and Danielle finally found him­ his arm being the one that looked so mangled. He lay beneath them, cushioning their fall. “Are you alright?” she asked, trying to check his eyes for a concussion. “Ribs hurt.” he muttered, his breathing coming in short gasps. “Anything else? Can you feel your legs?” she asked, feeling his ribs critically. “Yea, their fine, just my ribs. I didn’t hit my back or my spine. I didn’t hit my head either.” He grinned, looking almost like himself again despite the mud soaked tears streaming down his face. “Guess I’m pretty lucky.” “We all got lucky,” Danielle said, satisfied that he would be alright for the moment. “Alice, are you alright?” Alice sniffled, her sobs dying down. “I’m okay, he was holding onto me.” she said, her voice shaking hard. Suddenly, Jack stirred, groaning in the back of his throat. “Jack?” Danielle scooted down the length of the Boat to kneel beside him again. His eyes slid open, darting from side to side. “Where are we?” he asked, his voice shaking as hard as Alice’s. “We crashed in the Boat, you passed out” she said, leaning closer. A beam of light from the ripped out hole the engine had made fell across his face. His pupils were sharply dilated. “I passed out?” he asked, trying the words out in his mouth. He tried to clear the cobwebs from his mind, pain searing across his mind from his back, pressed into the dirt. “I took a pain pill before 19 Summertime supper­ but it wasn’t a strong one, just a T3!” he said, backpedaling at the look of fury on Danielle’s face. “You drank after taking a pain pill.” She said flatly, resisting the urge to smack him, “and then decided to drive a Boat with three other people on it?” he looked away, ashamed. “You could have killed all of us. Andre is hurt.” she choked her words back, leaving it for now. A thin crack of light seeping beneath the edge of the Boat caught her attention. She crawled over Jack, pressing her eye up against the ribbon of light. She could just see some fronds, a fallen sapling, and torn up dirt. The dirt she pressed her face against felt soft, and so she tried scooping it with her hands­ but the Boat had only ripped up a few inches of top soil, leaving the rest as beaten down and hard as it always was. She turned back to the others. “I think I can dig us out, but I need something to dig with” she said, running her hands along the ripped dirt, searching for something. Andre sat up, wincing with the pain in his ribs and pointed a shaky hand at the end of the Boat, where the engine had been. “I saw a little compartment down there, in the seat” he said, trying his best to get up on his knees, “check that, maybe there’s something in there.” Danielle crawled down to the end, feeling along the bench seat with her hands. She felt a crease, and pushed on it­ and with a click, the compartment flopped open, spilling its contents onto the dirt. She backed up, letting the light from the torn out part of the bottom spill onto the items. “There’s a pair of shoes, little canvas ones” she said, grabbing them and tossing them deftly back to Alice. She slid them on, tying them tight. “She told you, wear shoes” Andre said, leaning forward against his own hands, trying to relieve the pain in his back and ribs. Alice ignored him, wiggling her toes. They were a little big­ if she shook her foot, it would slide around inside­ but it was better than 20 Summertime nothing. “A flashlight” Danielle said, rolling it back to Alice as well. Alice grabbed it, holding it to her chest so as not to lose it in the dim light at this end of the Boat. “And some papers,­” these looked like legal documents­ “here’s some matches.” she put these in her own pocket. Finding nothing else left on the ground, she reached up into the compartment, feeling around. Something round caught the tip of her finger. She hooked her finger around it, pulling it out. “I found a Frisbee” she said, grinning widely. “Not up for a game, sorry” Andre said, still leaning forward. “I can use it to dig, numb brains” Danielle snickered, sliding back over to the opening. “Are you sure we can’t get through this?” Alice asked, sliding down to look through the opening punched by the stick. “It’s too small, even for you” Danielle said, using the scooped edge of the Frisbee, digging furiously. Alice, unconvinced, tried pushing her arm up through the hole. She could only get it halfway­ the metal of the bottom of the Boat stuck up here, sharp and deadly. She withdrew her arm, settling back against the side of the upturned Boat, watching as Danielle dug deeper and deeper into the firm soil. Soon, she was able to, on her stomach, crawl out through the hole. Alice followed quickly, all too happy to escape. Alice found a stick and together they dug the hole wider and deeper­ big enough for Jack and Andre to get out. Andre came first, Jack helping him as the injured man tried weakly to crawl out on his own. Eventually, they dragged the ashen faced Andre out, moving him gently over to lean against a tree. While Danielle and Alice tended to their injured friend, Jack crawled out from beneath the Boat on his own, bringing the flashlight and Frisbee over to rest beside Andre. The four sat for a few moments, simply staring back and forth at each other and sitting in silence. The lake lapped against the scarred rocks, unscathed. “we 21 Summertime should get help,” Andre broke the silence, pushing with his right hand down against the ground, trying unsuccessfully to move his body on his own. Danielle cringed, seeing his ribs move unnaturally in his chest. “Just rest” Alice said, pushing him gently back down. Danielle pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, flipping it open. It was turned off, so she pressed the power button, expecting it to light up­ but it remained black. She tilted it, revealing a million tiny cracks in the screen. “My cell is broken.” she said flatly, flipping it shut. “I didn’t bring mine” Andre gasped, trying to find a comfortable way to be. “I didn’t either, its back in my tent” Jack said, scratching at the ground in front of him. “Mine was in my purse,” said Alice, shuffling her feet, “but somewhere in the crash I lost the whole purse.” “It’s almost dark,” Danielle said, evaluating the position of the sun. “What we should really do is build a fire, and wait until morning to go get help.” Andre moaned, letting his head fall back against the tree. “Look, I know you’re in pain but it’s the best thing to do. For all we know your hurt worse than we think and shouldn’t be moved. I think we’re all a little in shock right now.” Danielle stood, brushing dirt off her knees. “I’ll get some wood for the fire, then” Alice said, hopping up as if nothing had happened and jogging off into the woods. Danielle looked back at the Boat, inspiration hitting. “Do you think the cooler is still in there?” She turned to Jack. “I'll check that.” He said, moving quickly to help. He moved, face down, through the hole they had dug to get out. Blood seeped through the back of his shirt, revealing foot long scratches deep in the skin of his back. Danielle felt a twinge of guilt for being angry with him­ he had not been unscathed by his actions. Jack wedged himself through, carefully avoiding letting his back touch the edge of the Boat. Once he got back into the space, he looked around. 22 Summertime With the Boat upside down, it was hard to tell whether or not the cooler had remained in its place, clamped into the storage bin near the bow of the Boat. He crawled down to the front end, the space becoming more and more cramped as the Boat's sides angled in. eventually, he came to the edge of the storage bin. He couldn’t get the top open, but the side had been wrenched open by the crash. “Yea, it’s here” He shouted back to Danielle. “Can you get it out?” She asked, peering through the hole. Jack pulled on the side of the storage bin. It popped off, falling to the floor of the opening with a clang. The cooler rolled out, water dripping out through the sides. “I got it!” He shouted, dragging it triumphantly towards the escape hole. Something fell out of the bottom of the storage container, hitting the floor with a soft WOOMPH and a sharp rattle. He reached back, feeling for the object. “Hey I found a first aid kit!” He shouted, dragging it along with him. Danielle almost jumped for joy. “Good!” she said grabbing the Frisbee and digging more space for the cooler to be squeezed through. “Do you think it has bandages in it?” She reached through the hole, grabbing the handle of the cooler and dragging it out. Jack crawled out after it, the kit handle in his teeth. Once he got up on his knees, he dropped the kit on the ground. “Let’s find out.” He unzipped the kit, ducking as Alice arrived; almost invisible under a pile of twigs and branches she carried over both arms, her back bowed to take the weight. She tottered over closer to Andre, dropping them heavily on the ground. “We made a lot of mess,” she said, looking over the crash site. Danielle shrugged. “We couldn’t help it,” she said, pulling bandages and a bottle of Tylenol out of the kit Jack held out towards her. “And at least, if we ripped out a few saplings, we're going to use the wood.” She opened the cooler, disappointed by what she saw. Most of 23 Summertime the bottles of alcohol were broken, and the container of strawberries was mashed. There were 12 bottles of water, and 13 cans of beer remained. “Triumph!” She said, pulling the plastic margarine container full of Sandwiches out of the bottom. She struggled to her feet, carrying the heavy container, 2 bottles of water and 2 beers. She tottered over to sit beside Andre, watching as Alice rolled rocks over to make a fire pit. Jack helped, arranging them in a cohesive wall. He kept yawning widely, apparently exhausted from the crash. "Here, eat this." She said, popping the container open and offering Andre one of the many sandwiches. He made a face, leaning his head away from the food. Danielle frowned. If Andre didn’t have an appetite, things might be worse than they looked. “Look, it says on these pain pills you have to take them with food, so just eat one, and you can take two pills.” Resigned, he took the food, choking it down. Every time he swallowed, every time he took a breath, his ribs moved and pain sang out over his whole existence. Danielle watched him carefully, sneaking the Tylenol out of the bottle before he saw it. As he swallowed the last bite, she held the two pills up along with the bottle of water. He took them gratefully, swallowing them quickly and grimacing at the pain. “Jack, you come here now,” Danielle said, turning away from Andre. “Why?” He asked, helping Alice push bits of dry grass in between the chunks of wood. “Your back is in shreds, that's why.” She said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him over to sit beside Andre. “Take your shirt off,” she said, turning away to pull some of the larger bandages out of the kit. He pulled the shredded shirt off carefully, wincing as one of the already clotted scabs ripped off. Danielle pressed one of the bandages against the wound, taping it down carefully with medical tape. “Here, eat one of these and then take two 24 Summertime pills.” she handed Jack the box of sandwiches and the bottle of pills, leaving the bottle of water at his side. Andre, catching sight of the bottle, frowned. “You don’t have to eat to take those.” he said, glaring at Danielle over Jack’s bowed head. “It’s good to eat after a shock.” she said matter­of­factly, not entirely sure if she had her facts right. Andre grumbled, turning his head as far away as he could without pain. Alice, her voice distressed, caught Danielle’s attention. “Danielle, I can’t get the matches to work...” she held the wooden match at an odd angle, striking it sharply on the smooth cardboard. “Here, like this” Danielle said, taking the box and striking the match properly. The match flared to life, and Danielle dropped it carefully into the dry grass stuffed around the wood. The fire flared to life, the wood popping and sizzling as fresh sap dripped out into the flame. Alice leaned back, avoiding the smoke. Danielle laughed, throwing some more substantial pieces on top of the sapling pieces. Alice had never been good at starting fires. “Well, look at us” Alice said, sliding over to rest beside Andre, “we’re regular survival buffs.” Jack snickered, leaning against a large rock beside the tree, careful to only let the rock touch his side. Andre, still angry with Danielle, still glared out over the lake. Danielle sat by the fire, watching her three friends closely. Jack and Andre seemed a little in shock, but that was to be expected. Alice seemed fine, laughing and joking like she always did. It was good, she decided. At least no one was delirious. And they would all need to be able to work together to get out of the forest to get help. Jack seemed tired, 25 Summertime though­ he kept yawning. Sweat stood out in beads on his forehead, although here, by the water, it wasn’t hot. Something caught her attention, drawing her gaze into the deep forest on their right. She stayed frozen for a few moments, staring into the leaves and fronds with wide eyes­ but then, she could see no more, and turned her attention away again. The people sat, laughing, around the fire. The Creature could smell blood on the air­ one of them, at least, had been hurt when their Boat had come flying up off the lake into the trees where the Creature had been standing. The women seemed fine, but the two men were hurt­ one of them crippled, and the other seemed to be the source of the blood. He craned his neck around the tree he hid behind, trying to get a better look at the people, but as he did, the woman closest to the campfire turned, staring right at him. He ducked behind the tree again, hoping to avoid being seen. He could feel her dark eyes on him, was sure he had been seen­ but nothing happened. Eventually, he looked out again, and 26 Summertime she had turned back to her friends. He settled down in the thicket, watching carefully as the sun came slowly down over the mountain behind the lake. The shadows grew longer, the lake inky black. The sun had set behind the mountain, the sky above the ring of the valley still bright, sparkling blue. The fire stood out on the shore like a bright beacon in the dimming light of twilight. Danielle sat beside the fire, looking out over the lake, hoping to see the lights of some stray Boat, or hear a voice calling out from the dark. Alice sat back beside Andre, supporting him while he slept. Whenever he moved, his ribs moved unnaturally, and she was afraid that if he lay down, one of them would puncture his lung. Jack still leaned against the rock, the throbbing in his back almost gone, now. He yawned repeatedly, his hands shaking. He watched over everyone, feeling the responsibility of his actions for the first time. As the light grew dimmer, he turned the other way, trying to keep an eye on the forest, and watch out for bears. This time of year, the sky never really went black­ just a deep, oppressing, sparkling blue that showed the stars like a ribbon shooting across the sky. Lying beneath the trees, Alice could see the outline of the tree tops against the blue. As the shock of the 27 Summertime crash wore off, hunger and exhaustion began to set in. Danielle left the shoreline to get a sandwich, and ended up passed out on the far side of the fire, a quarter of a ham sandwich held in her hand. Alice ate too, and, despite her best efforts, passed out against Andre, still holding him up. Jack stayed awake the longest, still staring into the trees, ready to raise the alarm. But soon even he fell asleep, his head dangling down until he slid, slowly and gently to the warm, soft dirt ripped up by the crash. Danielle was woken by the soft yet hard THUD of feet against the ground by her head. Her eyes snapped open, and she almost turned over to see what it was­ until she remembered the possibility of it being a bear. She froze, her eyes wide open, her breath coming in short gasps from the fear that coursed through her body, at the same time acutely aware of the quarter sandwich she held in her hand. Across the dying fire, she could just see the glow of the embers reflected in Alice’s eyes, wide open and fixed with terror on the Creature that hovered, sniffling around Danielle. Andre still seemed to be asleep, but Jack was obviously awake, frozen with his eyes closed. His eyebrows knit together in one line across his forehead and he seemed to be cringing against the rock. Silence ruled over them all, save the Creature. It sniffled and grunted as it shuffled along the makeshift campsite. It sniffed the sandwich in Danielle’s hand­ and let it be. Confusion made Danielle’s heart pound. What would a bear want, if not the food? As the Creature came around her body, she crushed her eyes shut, trying to play dead. As she closed her eyes, the last thing she saw was Alice’s face, twisted with terror. The Creature 28 Summertime sniffled at her hands, her torso, and her face­ licking deftly at the end of her nose. Its breath was horrendous­ like rotting meat, laced with sickly sweet, like hot metal on the wind. And what was more, now that it was in front of her, it was obviously too small to be a bear. It seemed, almost, to be crawling. Suddenly, the silence was broken. Alice, unable to hold it in any longer, let out one, small whimper. The Creature snarled, its body twisting towards the girl who lay on the other side of the dying fire. Despite herself, Danielle’s eyes opened just enough for her to see her friend, obviously shaking, her hand up over her face to hide her shaking mouth. The Creature scrambled towards her, and something registered in Danielle’s horrified, sluggish mind­ whatever it was, the Creature wore boots. It couldn’t possibly be a man­ not the way it moved, not the way it wheezed and grunted. Not the way it had snarled when Alice had made the one solitary whimper in the silence. It advanced on Alice, its back hunched, its face level with hers, now on the ground. Andre leant against the tree, held up by it alone. Its face was right up against Alice’s, now­ and suddenly, horribly, Andre woke up. Seeing the Creature hovering over his friend right beside him, he yelled, jerking painfully upright and striking out at the Creature with his fists. Alice screamed, cowering into the dirt. The Creature leaped for Andre, stomping on her back. Danielle jumped to her feet, diving for the Creature. Jack tried to jump up, too but the scabs on his back screamed, momentarily crippling him with pain. The Creature grabbed Andre by the throat, hauling him up off the tree in one fluid movement. He choked and sputtered, his ribs and arm blinding him with pain. His left arm flopped uselessly but he struck out with the right, connecting with the Creature’s face. It screamed, a long, keening howl and the sound shocked everyone for a moment­ 29 Summertime just long enough for the Creature to haul Andre up out of the divot created by the Boat. On solid ground, not ripped up soil, the Creature seemed to get a better footing. It threw Andre over its back like a sack of potatoes, ignoring his screams of pain, and took off among the trees. “Stop” Danielle ran after the Creature, jumping over the twisted, gnarled roots of the ancient trees. Andre screamed with every jolting step the Creature took, his pain a torture for his friend who ran behind them. Danielle ran as fast as she could after them, but soon the way was almost impossible. Instead of looking up to see where they were, she was forced to look down at her feet, the trees creating an almost complete cover of darkness. Andre’s screams got farther and farther ahead of her, until they seemed to be echoing beneath the canopy. She called out for him, but he didn’t seem to hear her. Suddenly, the sounds seemed to stop moving. Even as Danielle ran as fast as she could after him, Andre’s screams seemed to rise and fall. They got closer and closer, louder in her ears, until suddenly, just ahead of her, there was a loud and sickening SNAP. A terrible silence fell over the forest again. “Andre?” Danielle screamed, throwing herself back into the pursuit. “Andre?” Suddenly, she burst into a clearing. The moon light fell through a small hole in the canopy here, illuminating the clearing. Ahead of her, on the ground, in a long, sputtering, broken and eventually dying line there was a streak of blood, dark and haunting in the pale light against the green moss. It pointed straight ahead, into the unforgiving forest. “Danielle” Alice suddenly ran right into her back, knocking them both down onto the ground. Danielle fishtailed, spinning around in her efforts to get back on her feet. They both hauled themselves up, staring around themselves in panic. They ended up back to back, afraid to let the Creature sneak up on 30 Summertime them. The sound of footfalls to their right spun them around, just in time to see Jack come hurtling over the tree roots behind them. “What is it? Where is he?” Jack ran to the other side of the clearing, peering into the trees. “Why did the screams just stop like that?” Alice demanded, spinning Danielle around to face her. “I don’t know” Danielle covered her face with her hands. “I was running behind them but they were so much faster than me” Jack came back across the clearing, stopping at the sight of the blood on the ground. “That’s a lot of blood to lose” he said, walking in a circle around it. “He wasn’t bleeding before” Alice said, tears streaming down her face. Danielle’s knees gave way, and she slid in midair slowly down to the ground, her stomach coming up in the moss. Alice held her hair back, rubbing her back in an effort to calm her down. “What was it?” Jack asked, crouching to be on the same level as Danielle. “Did you see it?” Danielle shook her head, her hand over her mouth. “It was wearing boots” Alice said, her eyes wide. Danielle nodded. “So it was a man?” Jack asked, his forehead furrowed with confusion. “No,” Danielle choked, retching emptily. “Where are we?” Alice asked, staring around them. Jack stood, looking left to right. On the right was the dark forest, on the left the clearing. Across the clearing was just more forest, and behind that the mountains rose again, spiking high into the stars. Behind them were more trees, in front of them more trees, and nowhere was there a single indication of where they should turn. The trees that surrounded the clearing limited the visibility of the sky to a small circle, and no identifiable stars hovered there. “What if it comes back?” Alice asked, shivering. “I don’t think we should stay here.” “We came from that way.” Jack said, pointing into the trees at the right side. “Are you sure?” Alice asked, looking deep into the trees. “No, 31 Summertime but I know we didn’t come that way” he said, pointing towards the trees on the other side of the clearing. “Listen for the lake, the Boat is by the shore.” Danielle sat back on her heels. The three stayed silent, listening carefully for the unmistakable sound of the whispering, lapping water; but there was no sound, no indication; all traces of the outside world obliterated by the trees. The silence was ruled by crickets; even the moonlight that fell into the clearing fell from directly above, the bright crescent moon in the center of the circle of trees. “Why do you even want to get back to the Boat? Shouldn’t we be heading for help?” Jack asked, his voice beginning to rise with frustration. “We’re lost. If we don’t even know where to start, how can we find help?” Danielle glared him down. “I think we should try this way,” Alice said, pointing slightly to the left of the direction Jack had indicated. “What’s so special about that way?” Jack asked, looking critically in that direction. “I don’t know, but I think those bushes look familiar” she said, helping Danielle to her feet. “I think she’s right,” Danielle said, her voice hoarse. “I think that’s the way back to the Boat.” “So what do we do about Andre?” Jack asked, holding his arms out in a gesture of frustration. “I don’t think there is anything we can do for Andre, or at least not right now.” Danielle said, her head hanging down briefly as she fought to control her stomach. Jack stared at her for a minute, his mouth hanging open. “Alright” he said, striding ahead of them into the forest. “We’ll try this way.” they left the light of the clearing, walking carefully back into the darkness of the trees. Alice held tightly to Danielle, the two of them carefully watching out for tree roots. Jack strode ahead carelessly, his mind wheeling, guilt overriding his whole being. It was his fault they had crashed. Anything that happened now was his fault too. He tripped more than once, 32 Summertime landing face down in the mercifully soft moss that formed the forest floor. They walked and walked, the trees melding together, the forest becoming one uniform, dark torture. “I see something,” Alice said, half­crouching and squinting to see ahead. Something glinted in the forest ahead, illuminated by a single ray of light that made it through the canopy above. “Can you tell what it is?” Danielle asked, unable to see the glint. “Not yet,” Alice said, getting back on her feet, “but we’re going that way right now anyways.” they walked a little farther, picking their way carefully. Suddenly, the ground changed­ there were no more roots, but now there were rocks­ large rocks, small rocks, sharp rocks. They pressed into the insoles of Alice’s thin shoes, so that she had to alternate staring down at her feet and looking up for the glint she had seen. The trees became thinner, and suddenly, they heard welcome sound­ running water. The next second, Alice cried out­ “my feet are wet” Danielle looked down, and there, swirling around their feet, was an extremely shallow stream. The moonlight glinted off of the bubbling water. It was the glint Alice had seen before. “All creeks run to the lake” Jack crowed, running in the same direction as the water. Danielle took off after him, leaving Alice behind. Terrified to be left alone, she ran after them, jumping from big rock to big rock and avoiding the sharp ones that hurt her feet. Ahead of her, Jack’s voice sang out among the trees. “We found it” Danielle laughed, catching up to him beside a large cotton tree. Immediately at the roots of the tree, the lake began­ a large, unbroken sheet of glass in the moonlit night. Alice caught up to them, leaping from the rocks to the soft soil that dominated the ground beside the creek. Jack knelt down, using his hands as a cup. “Hey, do you smell smoke?” Alice sniffed the air, turning in all directions. Jack stopped short, sniffing the air too. “It’s 33 Summertime coming from that way” he said, taking off again. “Jack, wait” Alice yelled, her feet still sore from the rocks. “Come on, we better follow him” Danielle said, offering Alice a hand. They hurried after him, following the shoreline so as not to lose the lake again. The Creature licked his hands, savoring the taste of the crippled man’s blood. The three other people had been walking for a while, the second man kept stumbling. His blood smelled particularly sweet, like he was afraid of something. When he looked up, they were gone again­ the water still rippling from where it had run, undeterred, around their feet and on into the lake. He followed their scents, stalking past a cotton tree, its pollen tickling his nose. “Hello?” Jack was shouting, leading the way through the trees. “Jack, why are you yelling?” Alice ran to catch up, her voice hushed. “Where there’s smoke there’s people” he shot back, jumping over a fallen tree. “He’s right” Danielle panted, scrambling over the same tree. The forest ended suddenly, bringing them to a jolting stop. Disappointment flooded through Danielle’s entire body. Their own fire pit, now almost completely dead, had been the source of the smoke. The upturned Boat still sat in the destroyed earth. The box of sandwiches still laid there, the flashlight still perched on top of it. “I thought you said 34 Summertime there would be people” Alice said; panic beginning to lace the edges of her voice. “We’ll find people” Jack said, sitting heavily down on the rock he had leant against earlier. “When?” Alice screamed, making Danielle jump. “When do we find people? When do we find help? It’s been hours, Andre is hurt and he needs help” Alice spun, pivoting on one foot, her panic taking over. “We’ll be okay, Alice” Jack said impatiently, shaking his head as if trying to shoo away a fly. “No we won’t” she was crying now, still spinning with one foot planted, apparently afraid to stop. “Why are we back here then?” she sobbed, her words almost lost in the sound. “It’s going to come back here looking for us.” She slouched miserably around the makeshift camp, talking into her chest. “Why would it come back here?” Danielle grabbed more wood, throwing it on the dim embers. “Don’t do that!” Alice sobbed, grabbing the wood out of her hands. “Do you think sitting here in the dark is going to help anything?” Danielle snapped, grabbing the wood back. Jack just shook his head, lost in thought. Danielle threw the pieces of wood onto the fire, blowing gently on the tender embers that still remained. The wood caught, and flame licked up the wood. In the growing light of the fire, Danielle thought she saw something sparkle between the branches of the little maple tree at the end of the unnatural clearing ­ but she blinked, and it was gone. Alice, now completely miserable, slumped down on the ground, using the Boat to support her back. Danielle retrieved the box of sandwiches from its spot behind Jack’s rock, forcing one into his hands. “Danielle, I don’t want to eat after that” he said, shoving it back towards her. “Just eat it, and keep your strength up” she said, refusing to take it. He took it reluctantly, staring at it instead of eating it. Danielle took one to Alice, who initially refused but in the end ate two­ still shaking from the shock, 35 Summertime occasionally wiping stray tears away as she ate. Danielle ate one herself, sitting by the now bright fire and staring out over the lake, hoping to catch sight of a Boat light or maybe the long casting light of a campfire­ but she could see nothing. After almost an hour, Alice broke the silence. “What if it comes back?” Jack lost his patience. “What are we supposed to do about it? If it comes back it comes back.” He snapped, his voice ringing out in the night. Alice began to sob again. Danielle stared back at them, her mind running flat. “The Boat is pretty solid.” she muttered, barely discernable above the crackling of the fire. “What?” Jack asked, shaking his head like he had water in his ears. “I said the Boat, is pretty solid” she raised her voice to be heard. “We could get back underneath the Boat until morning.” Alice looked from Jack to Danielle, tears still running down her face. “I think that might be a good idea.” Jack got up, grabbing the flashlight and the box of sandwiches from beside Danielle. He shoved them into the opening they had made, sweeping the dug­up dirt to the side. He held his hand out to Alice, and she took it, letting him help her crawl slowly into the opening, and get under the Boat. She moved to the wider end, clutching the flashlight to her chest, making room for the other two. Danielle got up, grabbing more of the ripped and torn wood. She piled it onto the fire, the flames jumping brightly up into the sky. Jack helped her, piling the wood in a tent shape to keep it until morning. The ring of light grew larger, and the Creature backed further away in the bushes. As he watched, the man helped the dark eyed woman get under the Boat, finally crawling under himself. For a few brief moments, the Boat seemed illuminated­ light seeped from the cracks where the edges of the Boat weren’t quite buried in the soil, and the man’s arm came out again through the opening, 36 Summertime making a sweeping motion. Then, quite suddenly, the light went off; and all the Creature could see now was the bright, revealing light of the fire. He settled down again, watching carefully, his eyes reflecting the moonlight as he watched diligently through the night. The forest was silent, as it always was at night; Somewhere in the darkness, cougars and wolves hunted; owls swept silently from branch to branch, staring down with their magnificent eyes to the forest floor, watching for voles and mice; and coyote chased Bush rats along the ground, digging them deftly out of their holes, ignoring the bites and scratches received. Eventually, the fire burnt down; so that now, the ring of light was limited to immediately around the rocks that made the pit, and only glinted slightly off the side of the upturned Boat. The Creature stirred, getting up stiffly from his place hidden among the branches in the last of the hazelnut thicket at the end of the unnatural clearing. The ripped up, soft soil muffled his footsteps as he approached the Boat, circling curiously. The edges of the sky had begun to brighten. He found the ripped out part of the bottom easily, leaning gently against the side to peer into the opening, sniffing quietly. He could smell them, and their food. There was a strange, metallic smell too; the one who bled had taken something, it made him smell different. He leaned down even further, sniffing gently. 37 Summertime Danielle looked up through the hole, trying to stay as low as possible. Something moved there; it blocked out the light at the edges of the sky, then it moved again; she could see the trees, black against the red at the edge of the sky. She moved, her hand scuffling along the dirts and loose rocks. The Creature pressed itself against the bottom of the Boat suddenly, getting its face as close to the dangerously sharp metal as it could. It breathed deeply, not caring about silence anymore. Alice reached out, touching Jack’s arm. He moved silently back, stretching out his foot to touch Danielle’s back. She stayed where she was, afraid to make more noise. Looking down through the hole, the Creature suddenly saw what it had been looking for; the light suddenly gleamed in the eye of the person sitting below him. He thrust his arm in, ignoring the pain where the sharp metal scratched his arm; Danielle felt it’s hand wind into her hair. He pulled up as hard as he could, yanking her head hard against the top of the Boat. She screamed in pain, twisting her body and kicking out in a futile attempt to escape. The Creature screamed, banging her head repeatedly off the bottom of the Boat. Alice turned the flashlight on, shining it towards Danielle as Jack rushed as fast as he could in the limited space to help. Danielle was screaming, stars swimming in front of her eyes, her scalp bleeding, ripped open as the Creature hit her head off the Boat repeatedly, trying to force her body out through the hole. Jack grabbed it by the wrist, hauling down on it with his entire body weight. The Creature was forced into the sharp metal, screaming as it punctured the skin of his neck. His blood ran down Danielle’s face. Alice scrambled down to Danielle, dropping the flashlight. Its light bounced, dropping away behind Jack. Alice grabbed the arm Jack 38 Summertime held, biting the wrist as hard as she could, drawing gushes of blood. The Creature screamed in shock and pain, letting Danielle go with a reluctant growl. The three scrambled away from the hole, Danielle sobbing and holding her scalp. Her head pounded. The Creature leapt away from the Boat, trying to pinch the wound in its neck­ the wound on its wrist running down its arm. It ran into the bush, its screams echoing off the imminent mountains. Danielle sobbed, the pain in her head made her want to vomit. She fought to keep her food down, afraid to be weakened. She knew she needed her strength­ especially now that she was hurt, too. Jack held her tightly, trying to keep her warm to keep away shock. Alice huddled on her other side, her eyes wide as she stared at the opening in the top of the Boat. The light outside grew brighter and brighter. Alice pressed her eye up against the crack between the edge of the upturned Boat and the ground. She couldn’t see anyone or anything in the makeshift camp­ at least not from this angle. She looked from each side of the Boat to be sure before she said, “I don’t see anything. I think its safe to go outside now.” they crawled out, dirty and bloody. Jack sat Danielle down by the almost non existant fire, throwing more wood on. The warmth soaked into her aching body. Herlegs were muddy and bruised, her T­shirt was torn. Her cutoff shorts were caked with mud, and her high­top sneakers were functional, but ruined. Dried blood was in her hair, on her face. Jack pulled the bottle of pain killers out of the sandwich box, dropping two of them in her hand. She sat, staring emptily at the small 39 Summertime round tabs until he gave her a bottle of water out of the cooler, which still sat, miraculously, by the shore. Alice grabbed a beer, guzzling it, trying to get the taste of the Creature’s blood out of her mouth. Jack fished around in the cooler, assessing what was there. The sandwiches were almost gone, only 6 left. There was some mashed strawberries, and most of the alcohol was broken in the bottom. He found a margarine tub full of peeled boiled eggs, and took three to Danielle. She ate methodically, not really wanting the food but knowing she needed the nutrition, especially after losing blood. Alice would take only two, saying she had had some nutrition from the beer. Jack finished the last three, and that was all there was. Alice retrieved the first aid kit from where it had fallen when Andre was taken, behind the tree he had been leaning against. As she passed back towards the makeshift camp, she saw four long, fresh scratches in the bark of the tree­ as if he had tried to hold on. Danielle sat up on the rock, removing her T­shirt and shorts, so Alice could give her first Aid. The dried blood made it hard to find the cuts and tears on her scalp. Alice used bottled water to clean the blood away; the brown clotted muck turning bright, angry red as it re hydrated and ran down Danielle’s back, staining the straps of her bathing suit. The actual cut was definitely not as bad as it had seemed; just a small, triangular cut in her scalp. It didn’t bleed much, now; and soon, Alice had bandaged it, using small butterfly bandages, carefully moving Danielle’s dirty hair out of the way. Then, she took her clothes, and washed them carefully in the lake­ the dirt falling away from the clothes in clouds. Minnows gathered, nibbling the blood specks that flew along in the water. Jack used some of the longer chunks of wood and a half empty roll of medical tape to construct a clothes rack over the fire­ high enough that 40 Summertime they wouldn’t burn, and the tape wouldn’t melt. It fell once, jack catching the wood just before it caught in the flames, singing the hair off the back of his hand. They hung her clothes there, the water steaming off in the heat. Danielle washed her legs and arms and face in the lake, careful not to let the water get near the wound on her head. She sat close to the fire afterwards, letting the water steam off. Alice washed her clothes next, hanging them beside Danielle’s. Soon, Danielle’s shirt was dry, and Jack took it carefully down, not letting it touch the flames. She wrapped herself in it gratefully, the warmth welcome. Jack washed himself carefully now, dipping his head in the water, washing his bare chest and arms while at the same time avoiding the cuts on his back. Alice washed up close by, mending a tear in her bathing suit as well as she could without a needle, knotting both ends of the tear together gently, stretching the fabric to accommodate. Alice’s clothes were dry, the polyester shorts nearly smoking, so Danielle took them down, folding them neatly and leaving them on top of the cooler. She pulled down her shorts then, slipping them on while Jack was turned away. Their shoes were mud cakes, and couldn’t be washed; so Jack took them all, one by one, and smacked them off the tree, spraying dirt into the forest. Silence ruled over that morning, as if each person was afraid of their own words; there was no sound of Boats, no sounds of shouting from the campground. As she sat 41 Summertime drying, looking out over the lake, Danielle was struck by the odd silence. “Why aren’t there any Boats?” Jack looked up from what he was doing, re­threading Danielle’s shoelaces on her shoes. “I don’t know,” he said, pulling them tight. “Could there be a reason for everyone at the campground to leave?” “I don’t know,” Danielle said, getting up and walking to the shore, looking down to where she thought the campground should be, past the bend. “Maybe if there was a forest fire, but if there was I think we would notice.” Alice walked out of the lake, plunking down where Danielle had been by the fire. “There are always people camping at different places, too, like by the road in” she said, sticking her foot out so it almost touched the flames. “Is there a festival or something going on in the town?” Jack asked, coming back, plunking Danielle and Alice’s shoes down beside Alice. “Not that I heard of,” Danielle said, trying hard to think back. There hadn’t been any notices at the store, at least not that she had noticed. “Hey, Danielle” Alice switched feet, warming her toes even though the sun’s warm rays had begun to heat the depression in which the lake ran, “why is it called Ashland?” Danielle turned back towards the fire, the rising sun hurting her eyes. “So named for the ash that falls from the sky every summer when the wildfires get bad,” she said, plunking down on the ground beside Alice. Jack tied his shoes on, cinching them tight. “So what should we do?” he asked, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “What do you mean?” Alice blinked slowly in the rising light. “Should we make a break for the campground or should we stay here and wait until we hear or see a Boat and wave like crazy?” Jack smirked, apparently amused. “There aren’t any Boats because its so early.” Danielle said, remembering suddenly. “It’s summer, the sun just rose. That means its around 4 in the 42 Summertime morning.” Jack’s head hung down, and for the first time since Andre had been taken, he laughed. “I can’t believe I forgot that ” Alice perked up, looking brightly from Danielle to Jack. “If its so early, do you think we could get back to the campground by noon? We could get a search party going for Andre ” Danielle nodded enthusiastically. “We should bring water,” she said, sliding over and opening the cooler. The Creature hovered behind the tree line, watching carefully. Snippets of conversation floated back to him. He touched the neatly wrapped bandage that covered the wound on his wrist, pain still searing underneath it. The small woman had bit him; it had to have been her, because he’d had the dark eyed woman by the hair. He turned his attention back to the people; the dark eyed woman was pulling bottles of water out of their cooler. The small woman pulled off her hoodie, spreading it out on the ground, and together they bundled a dozen bottles of water into it, tyeing it securely around them, fashioning the arms into a strap to carry the bundle. The man who had bled took the bundle, putting it on his shoulder, careful not to let it touch any of the bandages that covered the wounds on his back, blood already seeping from underneath one of them. If he felt pain, he didn’t show it; he pulled the two women along, now, walking towards where the Creature stood, hidden in the trees. The Creature slipped away, watching. 43 Summertime Jack led Alice into the trees, looking back to make sure they weren’t followed. Danielle stooped to grab the flashlight, putting it in the crook of her arm. She ran after the two of them, afraid to be left alone. “Alice, you saw that thing didn’t you?” Danielle suddenly remembered, the look of terror on her friend’s face as the Creature had been sniffing around her body. Alice shook her head, her face twisting. “All I could see was shadows­ but it was pretty big. I thought it was a bear.” she said, following closely behind Jack. He marched ahead of them, oblivious to the conversation going on behind him. “But you had to have seen something, there was still light coming from the fire­ or a bit, anyways” Danielle’s voice became insistent.she reached forward, grabbing the hoodie/bag that hung on Jacks shoulder, sliding the flashlight gently in. Alice shook her head again, her voice rising. “All I saw was shadows. All I know is that it was big, and I think it had ears” Jack stopped without warning, Alice slammed into his back, falling onto the ground. His body twitched as pain registered in his brain, but what he saw ahead had him frozen in plain, cold fear. Something stood in their path. Danielle stepped lightly over Alice. “Jack, what­” she stopped short, staring ahead. Alice dragged herself upright, peering beneath Jack’s arm to see what the others saw. Ahead of them, in their path, stood something unidentifiable. It stood like a person, but it couldnt possibly be­ it’s face distorted, its brow jutting out over its eyes, its eyes set deep in it’s skull­ small and beady, 44 Summertime but sharp and bright. Its gaze swept over them, taking everything in. It’s arms hung at its sides, ending in strange hands­ the thumbs almost non existant, the fingers short and fat, like sausages. Its nose was a smear, extending from just beneath it’s jutted forehead to just above it’s wide, pink mouth. It was flat, the nostrils slits. at the edges of it’s mouth, teeth jutted up out of it like tusks, ending in sharp points directly underneath each eye. It had earflaps , which started on top of its head and hung down into its face­ like hog’s ears. It stood at least seven feet tall, a hulking figure, dwarfing all three of them. Jack held his arms out, grabbing Danielle by the wrist, herding Alice. They moved slowly backward, towards the Boat. But for every step they took back, the Creature took one forward, so the distance between them didn’t get any more. The Creature’s face distorted, a low, rumbling growl emanating from its chest. Danielle stumbled over a rock, barely keeping her footing; and the Creature leapt forward. They screamed, turning and running back towards the Boat. Afraid to look back, Danielle grabbed Alice by the wrist, trying to pull her along; but Alice, just as panicked as Danielle, didn’t need it. The Creature pushed himself harder, trying to close the distance between them. Jack burst out of the forest, finding the Boat. Alice was right behind him, and he grabbed her, trying to shove her underneath the Boat­ but she slipped, and the Creature was upon them. He flew out of the trees, snarling and reaching out to grab Alice as she lay on the ground, screaming. Jack punched out, knocking the Creature off his feet for a moment; and Danielle grabbed Alice up, sprinting into the trees away from the Boat, towards the mountains. They left the lake far behind, Jack following behind them. The Creature, disabled by the loose, slippery dirt recovered and was after them within seconds. Danielle and Alice flew over 45 Summertime the tree roots, their feet scrabbling as they fought to stay upright. Jack felt blood running out of his back, leaping over logs and taking the roots two trees at a time. They were running away from the campground, but in their panic they didn’t realize that. Alice’s feet pained, the thin canvas shoes barely any protection. Suddenly, her foot caught in a root, and she sprawled out onto the forest floor, cracking her head off a tree. Dazed, she rolled around on the ground, unable to find up. Danielle and Jack skidded to a stop, reaching back for her; but the Creature was right behind them, and grabbed her before they could. Jack leapt at it, but his wild swings didn’t work this time. The Creature threw him easily, knocking him into Danielle. They fought to untangle from eachother, panic taking over. The Creature withdrew between the trees, Alice screaming as he forced her to come along. “Danielle ” she screamed, tears running down her face. Danielle yanked her foot free of the tangle, her sneaker slipping off. With one bare foot, she flew to her friend, grabbing her arm. “Let her go!” she punched and slapped at the Creature’s head, cutting her hand on one of it’s tusks. It grunted, knocking her down easily, kicking her in the leg hard. Pain disabled her for a moment, radiating from the bone outward. Alice clung to a birch tree, the loose bark slipping between her fingers as she fought to keep hold. Jack came running again, but this time, the Creature was ready­ he punched Jack in the face, his head snapping back as he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Danielle scrambled, trying to protect Jack’s head as the Creature kicked violently, stomping on his body. Alice lost her hold, and it picked her up easily, ignoring her screams. It lowered its head to her neck, and for a second it looked like it was sucking on her; her screams changed from terror to pain as blood spurted beneath the Creature’s teeth. Her voice cut 46 Summertime off as it bit through her windpipe, forcing her head back further and further until her neck snapped. Danielle screamed helplessly, vomiting, her heart pounding in her head, fast and hot. Alice’s dead body hung limply as the Creature licked blood off his face, pulling her head off the rest of the way. It slung her body over its shoulder, her blood running down it’s back. It held her head by the hair. Danielle sobbed incoherently, trying to drag Jack, still unconscious, away from the Creature. It turned away, disappearing between the trees. Danielle screamed, urine running down her legs as she knelt, dragging Jack along a bit at a time. She managed to drag him to the shelter of the low hanging branches of a cedar tree, but there, her strength failed her. She collapsed across his body, convulsing and retching, her stomach empty. *** The sun came up above the lake, warming the grass, demolishing the dew that glittered, scattered amongst the grass. It slanted in through the windows of the huge, grey camper, shining in the eyes of Robbie, one of the ten children that ruled the campground this summer. He sat up, stretching. A quick check confirmed that his mother still slept, passed out on the convertible kitchen table­ all of the sweet things in the compartment underneath her body, impossible to get at. Today was his ninth birthday. He slipped out of bed, narrowly avoiding his brother, who snored loudly in the bed beside him. They all slept two to a bed, the youngest crammed in beside the oldest, her little leg dangling 47 Summertime down. He pushed it gently back into the bed, afraid to wake her lest she cry and wake their parents. He crept softly out of the bunk area, creeping past his sleeping mother, stepping softly over his father’s legs, sprawled out from where he slept, in the turned around passenger seat, his neck at an odd angle as he snored. He stumbled out the camper door, clicking it shut behind him before he lost his footing on the stump used for a stairway and fell heavily to the ground. “Ow.” he said flatly, shaking the dirt out of his hair. He got to his feet, looking around the early morning campground. Barely anyone was awake­ most tent’s still contained snoring people. He picked his way quietly towards the lake. “What are you doing?” a harsh voice startled him, shattering the morning silence. “Nothing!” he said, spinning around. The pop man laughed, sitting in his chair by the door of his camper. His wife sat inside, grinning at him from the kitchen table. “Where’s your mother, sweetie?” she asked, biting into a piece of toast. “Asleep still.” he said, smiling now that the shock was gone. “I’m going to the lake.” “Oh, big adventure eh?” the pop man’s wife smiled, dusting off her fingers. “Yea” he said, zeroing in on the pop man. “Hey, can I buy a pop?” he asked, smiling widely. The pop man scoffed. “Not this early in the morning” he said, shaking his head. “You can have an orange juice if you’d like” his wife interrupted, disappearing into the camper. She came back with a glass bottle of orange juice, cracking it open. She took his dollar, sticking it in her own pocket. 48 Summertime “Thank­you” he said quickly, running towards the lake before they could say anything else. He passed more tents, a baby girl staring at him out the window of one as he passed. He looked back, feeling sorry for the girl. She couldn’t open the door of the tent. He waved, and she laughed, disappearing suddenly as she fell on her bottom, right on her father’s face. He grumbled, and the boy ran, avoiding being blamed for waking the father up so early. He came to the beach, the sand just getting warm as the morning sun scattered brightly over it. He buried his bare toes in it, reveling in the warmth after the cold of the dew on the grass. He sipped his orange juice, the sharp sweetness waking him up even further. He skipped along the beach, stopping to grab up freshwater clams dug up out of the lake and left to die by other children along the beach. He threw them back in; hoping at least some of them would make it. As he bent to grab another, something on the shore by the water caught his eye. It was a woman’s purse, the long strap broken, trailing off and covered in sand. He ran to grab it up, lifting it over his head to get the strap out. It was too long, and he had to walk backwards to finally get it out, the buckle on the end clicking like a dog 49 Summertime collar. He put it down on the sand, wondering whose it was. He unzipped it, feeling around inside. It was all wet­ there was a wallet, and a bottle of queasy pills like his mother always kept in her purse, and a candy bar (this he promptly ate, tossing the wrapper into the lake to destroy the evidence.) He opened the wallet, checking the ID inside. The purse belonged to Alice LaRocque. *** Jack opened his eyes. Above him hung the green branches of an evergreen tree, and for a single, blissful second he forgot where he was, and what had happened. Then he registered Danielle’s body weight across his chest, and the searing, itching pain in his back and he remembered it all, the force of his grief coming down on him like a lead anvil. He sat up, Danielle sliding down his body, resting in his lap. She was conscious, but in shock, her eyes wide open, her body limp. “Danielle?” he shook her, afraid she had died­ but she blinked suddenly, focusing on his face. She stared at him for a moment, and suddenly, she let out a wail­ the sound made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It came from the bottom of her stomach, and ripped its way out through her mouth, a single, grief stricken wail. She wailed again and again, her face contorting, her body shaking. Tears ran down her face, and she shook all over, clutching her chest. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?” Jack picked her up, pulling her up into a sitting position. “He took Alice” she wailed, “he killed Alice.” Jack looked past her shoulder then, her head resting on his 50 Summertime chest. The blood coating every leaf and fiber was self­explanatory. He looked down, finding his own body covered in Alice’s blood. “Come on, get up.” he said, dragging her to her feet. Her knees buckled, not ready to take the weight. She slid down his body, kneeling on the ground again, sobbing now. “Why?” she sobbed, her face in the dirt. “Why does this have to happen?” Jack’s stomach churned, guilt rising like bile in his throat. He regretted the pills now, regretted going out without life Jackets. He regretted every sip of alcohol he had had, and most of all, he regretted letting himself be knocked out by the monster, leaving Danielle alone. He took her by the wrists, bending down to look her in the face. “Come on, Danielle­ we can’t stay here.” he picked her up, putting the hoodie full of water on her stomach, carrying her easily, moving on into the trees. Danielle let him carry her, still sobbing, still weak. She focused on the passing forest, trying to keep her mind blank. She had to blink, and every time she did she saw again, her friend’s head hanging off of her body. A bird ruffled its feathers in a branch above them, and she threw her arms up, cowering away from the sound, screaming. There was no way to tell what time it was, because they couldn’t see the sun, and they didn’t know how long they had been under the cedar tree­ but the sun still burnt hot, the humidity hanging heavy under the trees. They stopped, eventually, under a birch tree, Each of them drinking a bottle of water. Danielle flicked the flashlight on and off, staring at the light. Jack watched her 51 Summertime carefully, afraid of saying anything. He had been unconscious when Alice was killed­ he had seen nothing. Danielle had been alone. The light came from low in the sky, now­ slanting down through the trees, making long shadows. Jack got Danielle up, and this time she could walk. Jack knew they couldnt stay here­ the Creature would come back, he was sure it would, now­ and there was no Boat to protect them now. They moved on, grabbing what food they discovered. Danielle found a bush of wild blueberries, and they cleaned the bush, drinking them down with water. With food in her stomach, Danielle’s mind cleared a bit, and she was able to push the horrible images to the sides of her mind. Acutely aware of the dying light, she pulled the flashlight out of the hoodie/bag , carrying it once again in the crook of her arm. The Creature tracked them, following their scents through the forest. He had gone to where he left them, expecting to find the man, at least, dead there; but he had lived, and carried on, and now they were far from where he had left them. The small woman was gone, the taste of her blood still in his mouth; he strode through the forest, ready for the next catch. He carried a pickaxe, sharp and deadly in his hand. 52 Summertime Danielle turned the flashlight on, the light sweeping over the surrounding forest. She kept the beam pointed down, hoping not to tell the Creature where they were. Every sound seemed a danger, now; and they sped through the forest almost recklessly, their hands clasped tight together so as not to lose eachother in the dark. They were forced to let go, once or twice; but they held on tighter afterwards. There was safety in numbers, or so it seemed; Andre had been dragged off, whether he was dead or not, they didn’t really know; Alice had been forcibly seperated before she was killed. All around them, darkness pressed in like a hot, thick wet blanket. The flashlight beam cut through the night. “Stop.” Jack pulled her back, crouching down to the ground. He took the flashlight quickly, switching it off. They stayed low to the ground, listening, barely daring to breath. Ahead of them, to the right, they could hear something creaking. “What is that?” Danielle whispered, her spine tingling. The feeling of being watched pressed in on her from all sides. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Jack let go of her hand, moving forward into the dark. “No ” Danielle almost shouted, grabbing onto his arm. She cried, tears pouring down her face. “Please don’t leave, don’t leave” she sobbed, terrified to be left alone with the monster somewhere out there, in the dark. He pushed her hands off, pushing her to sit on the mossy ground. “Just wait here, your hidden. Just be quiet,” she nodded, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t make any noise” he cautioned, moving forward into the dark. As soon as he left her side, he was lost in the dark. She couldn’t 53 Summertime see anything, didn’t dare turn on the light. The seconds seemed to be minutes. The minutes seemed to be hours. She stayed, crouched there, her eyes darting frantically in the velvet black, unable to see even one sliver of light. She clung to the flashlight, the last security she had. Suddenly, hands grabbed at her arms. She screamed, striking out with the flashlight. “It’s me ” Jack dragged her to her feet. “Come on, I found something ” she jumped up, letting him pull her along in the dark. She couldn’t see anything, until suddenly, there was a strange, bright rectangle. It was a door. Jack shoved her inside, blinking in the sudden light. He turned, slamming the door shut, putting two huge slabs of wood in the brackets that made the lock for the door. He swung a padlock shut, and, lacking the actual lock part, shoved a screwdriver in the loop to keep the metal bar in place. the door was metal. Danielle stared around, shock creeping up on her again. They were in a small shack, the walls reinforced with metal. There were knives on the walls, and strange dark stains on the table that ran like a low counter along one wall. There were two cots on two of the other walls, dirt and smears on the sheets. There was a pump in the corner, and a small, low sink beside it. Jack turned to this, pumping the handle. It creaked, and Danielle cowered, afraid the sound would attract the monster. Noticing her reaction, Jack reached out to calm her. “This place is bear proof, it’s a hunting shed.” he said, sitting her down on the less dirty cot. “It looks like some hunters were here recently and forgot to shut the door right­ there’s just a latch on the outside. This place has water, and look, a kerosene lamp­” he pointed to the lamp, hanging on a long hook that jutted from the wall above the other bed. “There are ten more bottles of kerosene, and some bush food too. That water is from the lake, it’s clean; and there’s a chamber pot, a wash 54 Summertime basin, and a drain.” he said, grinning widely. Danielle stared at him, completely nonplussed. “What are you talking about?” she asked, exhaustion ruling her brain. He blinked sharply, patience reining his features. “We can hide out here until we can find help,” he said, Letting her go, pulling a chair over by the bed. “This place is bear proof.” he said again, raising his eyebrows as if she was missing something important. Sudden realization brought hope flooding into her body. “It can’t get in here.” she said, sliding to the edge of the cot. Jack nodded enthusiastically, his grin widening. “This place has a lot of food, too” he said, pointing to the boxes that were stacked neatly beneath the stained table. “All dried and canned.” he pulled one out, pulling out a package of beef jerky. He opened it, handing two pieces to Danielle. She chewed hungrily. “As long as we keep that door shut, it shouldn’t be able to see the light, either; there’s no windows, and the peepholes have covers.” “Peepholes?” Danielle asked, her mouth full of food. “Yea, look” he said, pointing to two of the walls. “There are two on every wall. They have little flip covers.” Danielle spotted one by the door. “Whoever built this place was either safety conscious or paranoid, but I don’t care which. We can hide out here. Someone is bound to look for us soon­ I mean, we’re a day late returning the pop man’s Boat, aren’t we?” he grinned widely. Danielle felt giddy from relief. Maybe they really did have a chance of getting out of here. “We will have to go outside to drain the chamber pot, but you can wash here, there’s soap, and some clothes in there.” he pointed to a rubbermade tub that stuck out from under Danielle’s cot. Danielle looked down at herself. Her t­shirt was torn and bloody, barely covering her­ certainly leaving nothing to the imagination. Her legs were scratched, torn and bleeding; she hadn’t even felt the injuries in her panic. Relief 55 Summertime and happiness died away, and grief suddenly took hold. She sobbed emptily, her hands over her face. She felt Jack’s hands on her arms, and he moved her gently over to sit on the chair. She heard him rummaging through things, too exhausted to open her eyes. Eventually, she felt his hands again, and he moved her back over to sit on the cot. She cracked her eyes then, looking down at the bed. He had found clean sheets, and there was a good, thick blanket. He pulled her shoes off, putting them under the bed, forcing her to lie down. She still clung to the flashlight, unable to let it go. The cot felt like the softest cloud in the world after all that had happened, and she floated drowsily along. Jack got her to sit up, handing her the beef jerky she had dropped on the sheet. “Eat it, its protein.” he said, putting a bottle of water in her hand too. She ate the jerky, and took a big gulp of water before she dropped the water on the floor by the bed, within arm’s reach and lay down, spinning off into the world of sleep. Jack sat in the chair beside her bed, watching as she drifted off. Once her breathing was deep and even, he got up and made his own bed, pulling the bedding from where it sat underneath the cot. He grabbed a piece of jerky, going over to evaluate the rest of the food. There was an entire box of condensed chicken soup, a few boxes of Tang thrown in the bottom. The next box was almost entirely jerky, and the next had dried fruit. The boxes were chewed on the edges; but they were wooden, and heavy; and so, luckily, whatever had been chewing hadn’t been able to pull them out far enough to get at the food. He thanked their lucky stars that no bear had been by; there wouldn’t have been anything left. A sudden sound caught his attention. He froze, listening sharply. He heard heavy footsteps pass by, not far away in the forest. He stayed frozen where he was, listening to the footsteps slowly disappear in the 56 Summertime distance. He waited for a full five minutes before he dared move again, pulling another box out of the shelf. There were tin cups and bowls in this, a box of cutlery on the bottom. There was a big box of matches, and a glass bottle full of instant coffee. This had been opened, the powder half used. There was a sealed container of sugar, one ant wiggling its antennae at the lid. The last box contained a bush burner­ a tripod like holder with a pot, and about a hundred small pucks of burner fuel, each of which burnt for 30 minutes, hot enough to boil water, at least. He set the burner up on the table, ready for the morning. Dizzy with exhaustion despite his period of unconsciousness, he left the coffee powder and two cups beside it and went to bed, turning the lamp down to almost nothing­ leaving it just bright enough that each corner of the small room could be seen. He got underneath the warm blanket, and sleep seemed to seep up out of the mattress, sliding away with him like water down a rock. The monster walked, stepping deftly over the tree roots that caused so much trouble for Jack and Danielle. The forest was pitch black to human eyes, but his eyes were sharp­ the pupils wide, catching all moonlight that made its way through the trees. A bobcat crossed his path, pausing momentarily to hiss at him, a supposed intruder. It scrambled on when the Creature didn’t stop, still striding confidently forward in the night. The Creature was having trouble finding the right scents. He remembered what his prey 57 Summertime smelled like­ but other predators followed them too. He could smell, crisscrossing over the path, two bears following them; and their rancid stench eliminated the scent of his human quarry at places. He wandered, his strange nose seeking out the remaining humans. The night went on, hiding the strange Creature as he hunted, the pickaxe he carried occasionally glancing against a tree. Danielle rolled over, her eyes tight shut. It was Thursday­ she had to get up and get ready for her shift at the general store. She lay for a few moments longer, enjoying the warmth of the blankets. Then, resigning herself, she threw them off, sitting up in bed. As soon as she opened her eyes, reality came back and slapped her in the face. Jack lay across the small room from her, his back to her. The scabs on his back were dark in the middle, all the edges bright red. It looked painful, inflamed. Danielle looked around the rest of the dim room, remembering. Suddenly, outside, she heard a bird sing. She got up quietly, going to look out one of the peepholes. Outside, it was daylight. The hunting shed was solid­ no light seeped in here. She looked around, as well as she could through the limited view, seeing nothing but peaceful forest. The kerosene lamp had long since burnt out­ the wick small and black, shriveled up. What little light there was came from the tiny cracks in a closed grate in the ceiling Danielle had not seen before. She reached up, rolling her thumb along the gear that opened it. It clicked open almost silently, 58 Summertime revealing the canopy above. Light flooded in, illuminating the small room. She spotted two cups, a pot, and a glass jar of coffee powder on the stained table. She went to these, inspecting the strange tripod that sat on the table. “It’s a burner,” Jack said, sitting up in bed. She whirled around, her heart pounding. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, seeing the look of terror on her face. “I shouldn’t have scared you.” he got up carefully, pain evident on his face. Danielle remained where she was, her back pressed against the stained table, watching her friend like he was some kind of enemy. He came over to where she was, pulling matches out of his pocket. “Look, this is how you use it.” he said, reaching under the table for one of the pucks of fuel. He popped it in the circular holder, just beneath where the pot was held up. He struck a match, laying it on top of the puck. It caught with a hiss, a small puff of smoke going up as the quick blue flame jumped up. He took the pot, cranking the pump’s handle. Water squirted out, rattling the pipe. It came out brown at first, but a couple of cranks had it coming out clean. He filled the pot easily, placing it carefully on the burner. Danielle still watched him carefully, her eyes darting from him to the door. Being in a place where she couldn’t see out made her uncomfortable. She went to the peephole again, peering out. There was nothing there, just the same trees. She went to another and another, staring out of each for a few seconds. Jack stayed with the burner, a cup of water in hand just in case he needed to put the puck out. Danielle, satisfied that nothing lurked beyond the walls of the hunting shed, pulled the chairs over to the table. Jack fished out a can of chicken noodle soup, handing it to Danielle to open with a can opener he found in the box of cutlery. He put two bowls on the table, two spoons appearing beside them as he dug around under the table. He pulled out a can of 59 Summertime condensed milk, the sweetened kind, and left it between the two cups on the table. Danielle opened the can, removing the sharp lid carefully. She looked around for a garbage, but there didn’t seem to be one, so Jack put all the dishes up on the table, stacked neatly and they used that box, shoving it so that it stayed in its sealed position underneath the table. The water boiled, and Jack poured water into the cups, dropping a spoonful of coffee powder in each. Danielle opened the sweetened condensed milk, using a spoon to scoop out a glob of the thick, sticky substance. She stirred a teaspoon into each cup, passing one to Jack.. It was too hot to drink, so he left it on the table while he poured the can of soup in with the remaining water. Soon, the soup was boiling, and he added a handful of dried peas he found under the table. They let it boil, each taking a chair and sitting beside each other, looking at each other and the table and the walls and whatever else was there in silence. “Why do you think someone left all this here?” Danielle asked finally, sipping her coffee, thankful for the caffeine. Her mind was clear now, and she was able to wonder about these things. Jack shrugged, draining the last of his cup. “They probably plan to come back this fall and hunt for deer,” he said, reaching over to stir the pot as it threatened to boil over. “Why do you think that monster didn’t kill them?” she asked, swirling what was left of her coffee around in the bottom of her cup. He shook his head, pulling the pot off the burner. “I don’t know if it did or not, but if it didn’t then it probably just doesnt come over this way.” he said, pouring the soup into the bowls. He passed one to her, turning away from the table towards the pump. He put the pot in the basin beside it, pumping the handle. Water spurted down into it, and he washed it out, using his hand to scrub the sides of the pot with cold water. The puck was 60 Summertime only half used by now, so, unwilling to waste the fuel he filled the pot with water again, putting it back on the burner. He sat, and they ate in silence. The soup was thicker than it should have been thanks to the peas, and the hot food did both of them good. Soon, the pot was boiling again and Jack made them both another cup of coffee. Danielle looked up, spotting something on the low shelf that ran along the wall about 3 feet above the top of the table. She reached up, snagging it with her hooked finger and dragging it off the shelf towards herself. It was a watch, a silver digital one, the kind that had the date sprawled across the display at the bottom. August 14, 2006 7:23 AM . *** “Robbie? Emily?” the frazzled Mother marched around the back of her camper, searching for her two middle children. The other eight were inside the camper­ some of them sitting quietly, some of them pressing their noses up against the glass, making faces. The youngest leaned against the window, facing back into the camper, her diaper pressed 61 Summertime flat against the glass. The Mother checked her watch, impatient. 7:23 AM. “Robbie Emily ” she walked through a bush, pushing the branches away from her face impatiently. “We’re right here, Mom ” Robbie popped up, waving his arm. He and his sister knelt on the ground, something dark and square on the ground between them. Her daughter looked toward her, revealing bright red stains, smeared across her face. “Oh my god ” she sprinted forward, pulling her to her feet. She pulled her little pack of baby wipes out of her pocket, yanking one out and scrubbing at her daughter’s face. The red came off easily, turning the baby wipe pink. “What is that?” she demanded, inspecting the wipe. “Lipstick, Mom ” the little girl sputtered, leaning away. “Where did you get lipstick?” she demanded, her eyes falling to the square object that lay on the forest floor. She let her daughter go, who hastily retreated. She picked the object up, inspecting it. It was a purse, the long strap broken, the contents spilled on the forest floor. She picked the contents up, popping them back inside. She found a wallet, popping it open and inspecting the ID inside. The purse belonged to Alice LaRocque. She looked at the picture. It was the girl, the friend of the man who Robbie had tried to attack with a crayfish. They had rented the Mason’s Boat. “You shouldn’t play with other peoples things. Now I have to buy this girl a new lipstick.” she said impatiently, dropping the wallet in with the rest and zipping the purse shut. “Come on, we’re late. We have to go down to Ashland to get groceries and your Dad has to come, so, so do all of you.” “Can we get marshmallows?” Robbie asked, hopping up to follow. “Of course we’re going to get marshmallows, we’re camping.” she smiled, her mood brighter now that she knew where they were. “Mom?” Emily yanked on her Mother’s shirt, demanding her attention. 62 Summertime Her Mother caught her hand, pulling her along. “What, sweetie?” she asked, folding the strap of the purse with one hand and tucking it under her arm. “Do you know the lady who owns the purse?” the little girl swung her Mother’s arm. “Yes, I do.” she said, holding the branches of the bush out of the way so her children could pass. “Are you gonna tell her I wrecked it?” she pouted, referring to the lipstick.”yes, I am.” she said briskly, taking her daughter’s hand again. “But don’t worry, because while were in town I will buy her a new lipstick of the same shade and give it to her when I tell her. She’ll be happy you found it anyways­ her ID is inside, and that’s expensive to replace.” They arrived at the camper, the Father holding the camper door open. “Get inside, now.” he said sternly. The two kids scrambled up the stairs, running to get a seat on the long, 6 person bench. The others ran to sit around the kitchen table, buckling themselves in with the seatbelts that stuck out of the seats. Once all kids were buckled in, the Mother and Father started the camper up, backing carefully out of the campground to where they could turn around on the gravel road in. The purse lay on the dashboard, heated by the sun. *** Danielle leaned forward, trying to see the top of her head in the small, square mirror that she had found on the wall by Jack’s cot. Her scalp was not as bad as it had seemed­ already it was healed, a sensitive pink line running along where the rips had 63 Summertime been before. She washed her hair gently, wincing as the soap stung the wound. She had to keep it clean, though, or risk infection. Jack sat at the table, his back turned away. “You’re not looking, right?” Danielle shot over her shoulder, her voice laced with a threat. “Not looking, I promise.” he said serenely, staring at the blank shed wall. She took her shirt off, tossing it in the corner. It could be used as rags, but that was about all it was good for now. It used to be white and grey, but now it was brown, with maroon stains and streaks running down it where her blood had run. Her cell phone, broken and useless, fell out of her shorts pocket, landing on the floor. She kicked the smashed cell over to where the shirt lay, marking it in the same useless category. She reached down into the Rubbermade bin, pulling out a men’s plaid shirt. There were a pair of women’s jeans, too­ but the corresponding shirts were too small for her. She pulled the shirt on, buttoning all but the top two buttons. She was thankful for her swimsuit­ it was cool, and now, inside the metal walled shed, the temperature was beginning to rise. She stopped what she was doing, stooping to scoop some cold water out of the wash basin. This was stained, like the table­ stains Danielle was getting all too used to seeing. She splashed the water over her face, cooling herself. “We’ll have to open the door soon.” Jack said, turning his head. “I said no looking ” she snapped, jerking upright. “I’m not ” he snapped his head back around, staring at the wall again. Danielle stayed where she was for a minute, watching him suspiciously. Then she snagged her swimsuit bottoms of the bed, jerking them on. They had needed washing, which thankfully, had been easy. She pulled on the women’s jeans, finding them just a little tight around the thighs. She stretched her legs, and they gave easily. She walked over to where Jack sat, plunking down in the chair 64 Summertime opposite him. He was already changed, wearing almost the exact same thing she was. She had checked his back, cleaning the cloth bandages in soap and boiling water. The cuts were dark in the middle, inflamed red on the outside. She worried about him­ his forehead felt hot when she touched it­ but it could just be the heat inside the shed. “You can look now.” she said matter of factly, sipping her cup of water. “Too bad, I already looked before you said.” he laughed, sitting so that his back didn’t touch the chair. It hurt more than he would let her know­ every time he breathed, it screamed with pain. He felt tired, too­ so tired he could almost go back to bed right now, and he hadn’t been up very long. He looked down at the watch Danielle had found, now holding prime place on her wrist. 8:57 AM. “We should open the door, don’t you think?” Jack asked, sweat beginning to run down his forehead. “Yea,” Danielle said, looking unsure. “Check through those peepholes,” he got up briskly, checking the one above the table. There was nothing there, just the usual forest, saturated green in the morning light. They checked the other peepholes, finding the same. “Why do you think they put peepholes in here?” Danielle asked, her hand on the door locks. “I would imagine it would be for the bears.” Jack said, taking a big drink of water. “Its kind of in the middle of nowhere, right? They would have to walk a long way to get help if someone got hurt or mauled for the catch.” Danielle nodded­ it made sense to her. Jack pulled the heavy blocks of wood off the door, dropping them on Danielle’s cot. Danielle pulled the screwdriver out of the padlock, 65 Summertime putting it on the ledge above the door. She cracked the door just a little, peering out at the daylight. Cool air rushed in the crack, cooling the room. Seeing nothing, she swung the door wide, stepping out into the cool morning. “It’s so cool out here, why is it so hot in there?” she turned around, looking back at the little hunting shed. A beam of sunlight fell directly on the roof, the source of the heat. “If we could get rid of that light, we could stay inside rather than be out here.” she said, analyzing the tree line. “We can’t stay inside all the time; we have to find a way out of here.” Jack said, sitting on a stump that was left by the door. There was a fire pit, too­ probably, Jack thought, used for tanning hides. Danielle stopped, looking into the forest suspiciously. She turned quickly, hopping back up into the shed. “Danielle?” Jack leaned backwards, calling into the shed’s open door. “Where are you going?” she reappeared, a long machete in her hand. “I refuse to be unarmed.” she said matter­of­factly, swinging the big knife around. Jack laughed. “Just don’t use it on me, okay?” Danielle looked around, squinting into the trees. “So, where do you think we should go now?” Jack considered this, leaning forward so his chin rested on his fist. “You look like the thinking man.” Danielle sniggered, dragging another stump over by where he sat. “I don’t actually think we should try going anywhere today.” Jack said, straightening up. “My back is killing me, to tell the truth, and you werent doing so well last night.” Danielle nodded. It was the truth­ the night had been plagued by nightmares­ Alice’s head, hanging from her neck­ what it had felt like when her friend’s hot blood had squirted over her body­ Andre’s screams, cut short in the black. Jack got up, walking to the foot of one of the trees. He looked up the trunk, squinting. He couldn’t see the top. Danielle watched him curiously, worried for his back. “I’m going to climb 66 Summertime it.” he announced, jumping up to grab onto one of the low branches. “What?” Danielle jumped up, striding over to stare up at him from below. He hauled himself up onto the branch, his back screaming. “I’m going to climb to the top and see which way is best to go.” he said, grinning down at Danielle. She crossed her arms, the machete dangling from her right hand. “Are you sure?” she asked, looking around nervously. What if that monster came back while he was in the tree? She would be alone. “Look, just go back inside the shed and lock the door. Watch through the peephole for me to come down , you’ll be fine.” Before she could argue, he began to climb higher up into the tree. Danielle whirled, running for the shed. She got just inside the door, looking out at her friend. “Well, be careful then, if your gonna be stupid ” she yelled, slamming the door shut. The clang of the door echoed in the forest. Jack shook his head, exhausted already. He climbed higher, pulling himself hand over hand into the treetop. Danielle dropped the wooden blocks into their brackets as fast as she could, grabbing the screwdriver off the ledge and wedging it securely in. This done, she sat down quickly in the chair by the table. Unable to rest, she tapped her foot repeatedly, bouncing her leg up and down. A branch scraped against the back of the shed, sending her whirling up, the machete back in her hand. When nothing presented itself, she sat gingerly back down again, checking her watch. 9:20 AM. She wondered how long it would take Jack to climb the tree, and get back down. *** 67 Summertime The frazzled Mother held onto her daughter’s hand, wandering down the makeup aisle. She held the destroyed tube of lipstick in one hand, holding it up, trying to find the right brand. “I don’t know if we’ll find it here,” she said, ducking down to compare it against the brand on the lower shelves. “Mommy, why do we have to find a lipstick?” the youngest girl asked, kicking her feet in the seat of the shopping cart. The Mother straightened up, just in time to receive a kick in the forehead. She wheeled around, her mouth set in a thin line, and her eyes tightly shut. “I’m sorry, Mommy.” the little girl cried, reaching out to pat her Mother’s back. The other five children she had taken with her into the store crowded around, patting her arms and asking if she was okay. Emily was among them, and she held up something for her mother to see. “Is this it, Mommy?” she asked, putting a lipstick into her mother’s hand. Recovered from the kick to the head, the Mother looked down at the lipstick, comparing it to the one her daughter had destroyed. It was an exact match, right down to the colour. “Good job, sweetie ” she said, kissing her daughter on the cheek. They took the lipstick with them to the front, the kids pushing things that fell from the cart back in as they went. She noticed several things she was sure she hadnt put in herself showed up as they went along, like a box of ice­cream cones they had no ice­cream for, and a bulk size box of gummy candies. She came around the corner, looking for her husband, and her other five children. “Gloria ” she turned at the sound of her husband’s voice. He waved at her, occupying the five older children by the door. She sent the four that walked beside her over to him, telling them sternly to sit quietly. The youngest stayed with her, standing up in the seat of the cart to 68 Summertime help her Mother put things on the belt. When everything else was rung through, she suddenly remembered the lipstick she still held tightly in her hand. “This, too.” she said, handing the lipstick over her daughter’s head. The cashier rang it through. $21.00. Ouch. She paid for it anyways, resigned. She stuck the receipt in her purse, the lipstick rolled up inside. By the time they had the groceries put away in the camper, and all ten children belted in, the frazzled Mother had forgotten the expense. *** In the tree, Jack was getting higher and higher. The forest looked different from here­ one solid swath of green, each bow dripping with moisture. The humidity here was amazing­ but at the same time, it was cool. The tree trunk, when he stopped to rest against it, was cold­ almost as cold as Glacier Lake. The sunlight was brighter here, with less branches in its way. Plants grew on the branches here­ mostly moss, but some long strings of green matter hung here and there. Fungus grew all along the trunk, and he 69 Summertime wondered if he should take one for Danielle­ she liked that kind of thing­ but it wasn’t a necessity, and what would she do with it here? He carried on into the tree, stopping now and then to look around, but never down. As he climbed, he suddenly came to a break in the canopy. Looking down, he could see, far below him, the roof of the shed, illuminated by the light. Feeling dizzy, he steadied himself against the tree. The source of the light was a branch, held out of its usual place by another­ probably blown together in a windstorm, now caught and unable to move. He stomped on the base of the offending branch, freeing the one that usually kept the shed cool. It swung back into place, the roof of the shed disappearing from view. Inside, Danielle looked up, the change in the light noticeable. Instantly, the shed cooled down. She got up, peering through the roof grate. She could just see Jack, working his way carefully up the meshed branches. Then, suddenly, he disappeared. She sat back in her chair, checking her watch. 9:56 AM. She settled down, watching that spot, not 70 Summertime wanting to miss him coming back down. The shed was cool, now­ so she got up, cranking the pump handle. Cold water gushed out, the pump now primed. She filled the pot easily, putting a new puck of fuel in the tripod burner. She lit it carefully, holding the wooden match at the very end. It lit in a circle, the blue flame jumping from the middle like a living thing. She put the pot on, holding the handle carefully for a minute in case it wobbled. Her whole body ached, now­ and she was glad that they weren’t planning on going for the campground today. She stretched, her back cracking. She felt old. She grabbed two cups from the end of the table, where she had left it after washing them this morning. The small bottle of soap they had found beneath the sink basin suddenly tipped, falling to the floor with a bang. She jumped, almost knocking the tripod burner over. She grabbed it, steadying it easily. The soap still lay on its side on the floor, when suddenly, as she bent to grab it up, she heard heavy footsteps pass by, not far away in the forest. She froze, her eyes wide with terror. The footsteps passed, fading quickly away. She turned, silently picking the machete up again, the soap held tightly in her other hand. 71 Summertime Jack broke through the canopy, bright sunlight blinding him for a minute. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust. There were taller trees, but this one was alright­ tall enough to get a good look around without having to be at the very top. He scrambled a little higher, holding on carefully as the tree wobbled a little. He looked out over the trees, and at first he saw nothing. Then, as he slowly turned, the glittering lake came into view­ or the edge of it anyways, just the far shore glittering in the sunlight. It was at least 5 km away. On the opposite side, just off to the left, lay the campground. Jack blinked rapidly, afraid he was seeing a mirage. But as he watched, a Boat skidded into view past the trees, pulling up rapidly to the shore. Jack grinned, sure, now that it was no mirage. He pointed his body in the right direction, holding his arm out, pointed at the campground, trying to memorize the direction. Then, wobbling, he began to descend. The going was easier now, but his back screamed with pain at regular intervals. Even so, taking breaks, he got down the tree in a fraction of the time it took him to get up it. Danielle still sat below, watching through the grate for Jack’s return. Sudden movement caught her eye. There he was, coming down the tree already. The pot had boiled, and she had poured them both a coffee already; it was still too hot to drink, the pot back on the burner. It had taken longer this time, though; or Danielle hadn’t been paying enough attention; she sat rigid in her seat, the machete in her hand. Seeing him come 72 Summertime down the tree filled her with relief. She sprung up, checking all the peepholes. Nothing but friendly green forest met her eyes, and so, when Jack finally stood on solid ground, she swung the door wide. “Well?” she asked, tapping her foot impatiently. “what did you see?” Jack laughed at the expression on her face. “It’s that­a­way.” he said, standing rigidly and pointing off to the left, grinning foolishly in the green light. “good.” she said, retreating a little inside, “now come in... I heard someone walk by a while ago.” Jack bolted for the door, some of the fear returning, bubbling in his gut. They closed the door securely, the shed cool now that Jack had released the branch that shaded the shed. Outside, the Creature watched carefully. The hunting shed was solid­ too solid, he knew, for him to get into; but the scent of his prey, so close, was so tempting. He settled down to wait; at some point, he knew, they would try to get back to where the other humans were, at their campground. He nestled down in the moss and leaves, watching patiently. 73 Summertime Jack took a big swig of coffee, glad to be out of the tree. Glad to have some solid walls between him and whatever that thing was that had killed their friends. Danielle checked his back, expecting to find it bleeding again; but it was alright, the inflammation now coming down a bit. She wiped it clean, though­ there were tiny black specks all in the scabs, and the cut closest to his shoulder seemed puckered. He kept the pain inside, not letting her know it hurt. He didn’t want to worry her. “What did you hear, exactly?” he asked, putting the cup down on the table. Danielle pushed his shirt back up on his shoulders, walking around his chair. “Your back is fine, and what I heard was footsteps.” she said, dropping another spoon of coffee in his cup. She poured hot water in, shoving the can of sweetened milk towards him, the spoon sticking up out of it. She gave him his cup of coffee, and then fished a can of soup out of the box. She topped up her own coffee, adding only half a spoon of powder this time. She opened the can carefully, pouring it in with the boiling water. It seemed weak, so she dug another can out, pouring it in with the other, adding a bit of water. The soup bubbled, the smell making Jack’s stomach growl. His back itched, but it felt a little better than before. Maybe it was just resting it? He wondered, sipping the coffee Danielle gave him gratefully. She let the soup boil, going back to locking the door. The screwdriver had already been in the door, but she had let the wooden bars slide while she checked Jack’s back. Now she put them in place, making sure they were solid. That done, she checked out the peephole again, just to make herself feel better. There was still nothing there, just the green forest, and one small, yellow bird that looked like its beak was too big for its head cracking a pinecone and pulling out the seeds. She went under the table again, pulling out the box with beef jerky. She pulled out 74 Summertime the opened pack, putting it on the table. Something blue caught her eye among all the red packages. She pulled it out, holding it up. “You found crackers?” Jack asked, his eyebrows raised. His nose ran, he kept having to wipe it away with the back of his hand. Danielle turned, grabbing the roll of tissue from beneath the sink. She handed it to him without looking. “These people really stock this shed with everything.” she laughed, dropping the crackers on the table beside the jerky. “Hey, I’m glad they do. What would we have done otherwise?” Jack grabbed the crackers, opening them carefully. “We should leave them a thank you note. If it weren’t for their shed we wouldn’t have made it.” Danielle said, pouring the soup. “We should leave them a thank you note and some money.” Jack laughed, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. Danielle grabbed the Sharpie that lay on the shelf, pulling some butcher paper off the roll that lay beside it. “What do I say?” she asked, her nose wrinkling. “Thanks for your shed being open right when we needed it as we ran from a murderous monster that killed two of our friends?” “No.” Jack said, his face serious. “Just say, “we got lost, were chased by bears, found your shed open. Thank you for the use of your shed, hiding out. Here’s a 50 to replace what we used. Thank you.” or something like that.” he said, crushing some crackers into his soup. Danielle wrote the note, taking the money Jack handed her and folding the two pieces of paper together carefully. “What should we do with it, where should we leave it?” Danielle asked, putting it down on the table and pulling her soup over. “Tomorrow, when we head out, we should leave it under one of the bowls in the middle of the table.” Jack said, shrugging. “How could they miss it?” “I guess that’s true.” Danielle laughed, dropping crackers into her soup, breaking them with her spoon. Jack pulled out a piece of 75 Summertime beef jerky, gnawing on it. He was feeling tired again, the jubilation of finding the right way wearing off. “So the campground is exactly that way.” Danielle said, pointing over her shoulder. “Well it’s exactly that way and across the lake.” Jack said, devouring his soup. Danielle choked, her eyes popping wide. “Across the lake? How did we get all the way around the lake?” she sputtered, grabbing her coffee to help her stop choking. “Probably in the dark, running away from that thing” Jack said, clapping her on the back. “Don’t worry, we can get to the edge and get someone’s attention on the other side. Or, we can swim for it. Or, we can hug the shore and walk around. Any way we do it, we’ll get out. It’s only about 15 Km anyways.” He said, smiling like a car salesman. Danielle just stared at him, her eyes wide. All that distance was a lot of opportunity for that monster to catch up. She checked her watch, conscious of the passage of time. 11:45 AM. Jack was exhausted, his head drooping to nearly touch his chest. “Jack?” Danielle poked him in the knee. He jerked upright, his head snapping up, his eyes remaining shut. “What?” he said groggily, drinking the last of his soup. “I think you better lay down, you look so tired.” she said, worried for her friend. “I think you might be fighting away infection from those cuts­ they were pretty dirty, and you haven’t had much rest,” she worried, pulling him to his feet. “I’m tired anyways. I don’t think I have an infection, though.” He said, holding his hand out to her. She helped him up, using her whole body weight just to get him to his feet. “I think we should both get as much rest as possible,” he said, letting her pull him 76 Summertime over to his cot. “You lie down, get some sleep.” she said, pulling his blankets down for him to lie down. He pushed his shoes off, swinging his legs up. She covered him carefully, worry lining her forehead. It wasn’t like him to be so tired so early in the day. She went back to the table, finishing her food, pulling out a piece of jerky for herself. She ate it all down, listening carefully to the outside world through the vent. Birds sang, and suddenly, somewhere in the distance, someone shot a gun­ but it was far, far away. She cleaned up; pouring the boiling water she had used the last of the fuel puck for in with the cold and soap. The dishes now clean, she washed her face, scrubbing up her arms. She shook them dry, sitting back down in the chair. She sat there for a few minutes, with nothing to do. She kept looking over at Jack, sleeping quietly. Tears ran from his eyes periodically, and she wondered if he was having problems with allergies. He turned over, and she crept over quietly, pulling the blankets away, lifting his shirt. The cuts on his back looked just a little irritated, but not enough to cause this reaction. She remembered him telling her he had taken a pill before dinner the night the boat had crashed, and wondered exactly what he had meant. Then, suddenly, she jerked up, moving quickly and lying down in the bed opposite Jack. He was right, she decided­ they should both get as much rest as possible. The shed was cool, and she kicked off her shoes before she lay down. She covered with the warm blanket, staring up at the ceiling. A few glow in the dark stars were stuck here and there, and it made her wonder who owned the shed. Maybe it wasn’t a couple who came here, she thought­ maybe it was a father and daughter, coming to stock their freezer with deer or duck before winter set in. She looked over at 77 Summertime Jack, already fast asleep in his bed. She checked her watch. 12:04 PM. She rolled over, closing her eyes, willing sleep to pass the time. *** “Mr. Mason?” the frazzled Mother strode up to the door of the popman’s camper, holding the broken purse in one hand. “What?” he snapped, turning away from what he was doing­ trying to get cell service. “Do you know where the people who rented your Boat the other night are camping?” she asked, taken aback by his rude behavior. “I wish I knew where they went at all ” he said argumentively, waving the cell phone around. “They’ve only gone and made off with my Boat! One night they said they’d have it! One night! ” he stomped over to his chair, giving up on the cell. He plunked down, the chair creaking ominously under his enormous weight. The frazzled Mother stopped short, her forehead creasing with worry. “Are you sure they're alright?” she asked nervously, brushing her hair out of her eyes. The pop man looked up at her, his eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask it like that?” he asked cautiously. “My son found this on the beach, buried in sand.” she said, holding the purse out to him. He took it, unzipping it, popping out the wallet. The ID said plainly; Alice LaRocque. It was one of the women who had 78 Summertime gone on his Boat. “I’m calling the Police.” he said, matter of factly. “Make sure your kid stays around here, they might want to talk to him when they get here.” the frazzled Mother nodded, hurrying off to find her son. The pop man looked after her, his face masked with worry. What if something really HAD happened to them? *** Danielle was woken by a loud BANG. She jerked upright, panic taking over, convinced the Creature was on her, its teeth coming down on her throat.... but then she realized, it was only Jack... laying on the floor, unconscious. She jumped out of bed, grabbing him... but he didn’t respond, and he was too heavy to move. “Jack?” she shook him, his head flopping around. She put him gently down, running for water. She filled a cup with cold water, releasing the water held in the sink basin by yanking out the rubber plug. She poured the cup of water over his face, panicking. He sputtered, bolting upright. “Are you okay?’ she asked, concern flooding her face. “Yea, fine” he said, looking around. “You don’t seem fine, you passed out.” she said, helping him to his feet. His skin was hot, but he shivered as if he was cold. He sat down on his bed, yawning widely. “I think I was sleepwalking,” he said, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “Are you sure?” she 79 Summertime asked, sitting down across from him. “Yea, I was having a nightmare.” he said, lying down again. Danielle just nodded. It was understandable, with all that had happened. Jack looked down at his hands, trying to erase the dream from his mind. The monster had been watching, watching through the grate in the ceiling. He looked down at his hands, afraid to look up, afraid it really would be there. Across the tiny room, he spotted the time displayed on the watch; 6:25 PM. Ominous thunder rolled in the distance. A summer storm was blowing up, the first haughty clouds rolling across the sky with all the authority of a rookie cop. Danielle got up, peering through the ceiling grate. She could see the canopy above, and beyond that, dark grey clouds. A fork of lightning licked across the sky, and she reached up, clicking the grate shut. The room was thrown into dark, and Jack’s body jerked, fright taking over for a second, unable to see. Then, slowly, his vision came back and he could see Danielle, putting another puck of fuel in the burner. The blue flame licked up, illuminating the table. He got up, grabbing the kerosene lamp from the wall. The flashlight lay on the floor, halfway under Danielle’s cot. He put it up on her cot, moving over to the table with the lamp. He took one of the matches, lighting the lamp carefully, making it bright. He left it sit on the table, turning to help Danielle. She was digging around under the table, inspecting the food in the boxes. She came up triumphant with a can of cream of 80 Summertime mushroom soup, a change from the rest of the food that day. Jack sat in the chair at the end of the table, watching in silence as Danielle made their dinner. The thunder rolled closer, and it made them both nervous­ sitting in a metal shed under a lot of tall trees is not the best place to be in a thunderstorm­ and soon, suddenly, the rain came crashing down. It fell even through the canopy, drumming on the roof of the shed. The noise it made was deafening, so that Jack had to shout to be heard. “If it had been raining last night, we would have found this place sooner!” Danielle grinned, nodding enthusiastically. The grate kept the rain out, somehow­ it rolled down the angled slats and on down the roof. As Danielle stirred the soup, the rain hid Jack’s sudden whimper of pain­ his back was beginning to burn, mixing with the sickness he had felt before. Heat rose from the injuries, spreading across his back like an oozing slime. Outside, the Creature took advantage of the rain. The thundering noise made it impossible for the humans inside to hear him as he snuck up on the shed, sniffing carefully. They were cooking something­ the smell made his stomach growl. He had not eaten yet today. He sniffed at the cracks of the door, registering in his mind where the smells dulled and sharpened­ these places were where the door was barred. It was solid, and he knew he couldn’t get in­ at least not until they opened the door. Suddenly, he 81 Summertime heard footsteps, crossing the floor, and he crushed himself against the wall to the right of the door. Danielle stood on tiptoe, looking through the peephole. The rolling thunder made her nervous, and she was thankful for the peepholes. At least she could see outside, when someone standing outside couldn’t see in. Behind her, Jack’s strength flagged already. Danielle had just finished heating a can of soup, and already he was tired­ his head drooping repeatedly. He found himself unable to lean back against the chair for support­ the shirt would stick to his back, stinging and burning. He dropped his spoon as another wave of exhaustion hit him, rolling along his consciousness like a poisoned cloud. Danielle heard the clatter, and so did the monster. Its ears pricked up, listening carefully. Danielle turned away from the door, finding her friend almost dropped onto the wooden floor. “Jack!” she pulled him upright in his chair. “What’s wrong with you?” it was cool inside the shed now, and there was no mistaking it­ his skin seared hot, a severe fever wracking his body. “Turn around.” she said authoritatively, pulling him onto his feet. He wobbled, turning carefully as the room spun, straddling the chair. He rested against the back, his eyes fluttering close from exhaustion as Danielle carefully pulled off his shirt. The state of his back almost made her vomit. Pus dripped from the wounds, running down, staining the waist of his jeans. The bandages were loose, hanging from his back­ 82 Summertime he must have pulled them off in his sleep somehow. And worst of all, an angry red line ran all the way from the cut on his left shoulder, across his right shoulder and curled along his collarbone. Jack had blood poisoning. She tried to get him up, But he was almost unconscious against the back of the chair. She went to her shirt, still crumpled in the corner, and rushed to the sink, pumping water into it. She poured the last of the soup into one of the bowls, scrubbing out the pot as quickly as she could. She filled it, setting it on the tripod burner to boil. As the water came to a steam, she ripped the shirt into rags. She scrubbed them against the rough, barred side of the sink basin, using it like a washboard. She kept an eye on Jack over her shoulder, worried that he would fall off the chair, or that he would die, succumbing to the poisoning that threatened, already weakened by whatever had been happening before. The water was hot, sending plumes of steam up into the air. She pulled it off the burner and poured the water into the biggest bowl, adding a few drops of soap. She filled it again with cold water, setting it again on the burner. She went to Jack, wetting one of the now clean rags into the hot water, wiping it gently against the wound that led the red line. Jack’s entire body tensed, his head jerking up. He almost screamed in pain, clenching his lips together to stop the sound. “I’m sorry!” Danielle cried, tears streaming down her face. Helping him was going to be painful. She wiped around the wounds, removing as much pus and discharge as she could, the rag coming away green, black and yellow. She took the dirty rag to the pot, putting it in the steaming water. She retrieved another rag from the sink, making sure it was clean, and came back, dipping it once again in the bowl of hot, soapy water. “This is going to hurt, but it will help.” she told him, steeling herself. His whole body was tense 83 Summertime as he waited for the pain that came with the hot cloth. She pressed it against the wounds, blotting gently, cleaning them. He screamed as soon as the hot water and soap touched it, putting his head down and clinging to the chair to keep from reacting violently. The pain made stars blink in front of his eyes. Danielle sobbed, forcing herself to continue. If she didn’t clean the infection, he would definitely die. The wounds turned angry red, pus pouring out everywhere she touched with the cloths. She had to run, dropping cloths into the now boiling water repeatedly, grabbing rags from the sink, and cleaning and cleaning his back to keep the infection from running into the other wounds on his back. Jack held onto the chair, trying not to scream. The pain seared­ it screamed­ and above all else, it itched­ and he was barely able to keep from bolting up out of the chair. Eventually, the wounds she had been working on stopped pouring discharge­ but they were still dark and now even angrier red at the edges. The red line seemed to be diminished, but another, Danielle knew, could produce itself from one of the cuts lower down on his back that she had not yet tended. She dropped the last rag into the boiling water, pouring soap in with it. Jack’s breathing came heavily, the pain fading away gently as he clung, still, to the back of the chair to stay upright. “Are you okay?” Danielle asked timidly, watching him while she waited for the cloths to boil clean. “That depends.” Jack said, his eyes still closed, sweat running down his forehead. “On what?” she asked, pouring the boiled rags into the sink. “Are you done yet?” Jack muttered, his eyes still shut tight. “No. No I’m 84 Summertime sorry” Danielle sobbed, filling the pot with cold water once again. She had to light another puck, placing the water on to get hot again. She scrubbed the cloths out hard, mortally afraid of making the infection worse. Jack waited, holding himself up. The water began to steam, and Danielle poured it back into the bowl, which he had cleaned out, adding more soap into the mix. She set the pot back on the burner, and turned back to her friend, soap and water and cloth in hand. He steeled himself, trying to brace himself against the pain. She knelt gently beside him, her hand shaking as she pressed the hot cloth against the cuts that littered the lower half of his back. He screamed, a long keening sound that carried, even in the muffling forest, quite a way. He sucked air in with a strange, whistling squeak, and suddenly, another scream ripped its way out. Danielle simply sobbed, forcing herself to keep cleaning her friend’s wounds. Outside, the monster was riveted to the wall, listening to the man’s tortured screams inside. He licked his lips, waiting. *** 85 Summertime The red and blue lights advancing up the dirt road alerted the campers to the Police’s presence. Everywhere, everyone who had anything to hide scrambled. By the time the cops had arrived, the campground seemed as straight laced and clean cut as a suburban neighborhood­ men sitting with wide smiles , marijuana and other illegal substances tucked in their boots, or under the stumps they sat upon, or in their socks in their tents and campers. They pretended not to notice the Police, who left their car behind at the entrance of the campground so as to avoid the possibility of running over children. The female Police officer strode up to one particularly guilty looking group of campers, looking from face to face. They all looked back, waiting to hear what she had to say. “I’m looking for Mr. Mason.” she stated simply, watching their reactions. Instantly, their faces cleared, worry lines disappearing from around their eyes. They all pointed at the same dilapidated, old beige camper. An old man stood there, his gut overhanging the edge of his shirt. She walked around the first camp, walking up to speak to the old man. Her partner followed, scrutinizing the first group closely. They looked back, perfect pictures of politeness written on their faces. “You called down, said some young men and women had gone missing?” she asked, approaching the camper. “Yea, they went missing with my boat, I let them take it out.” he said, inviting them inside. The camper was small and cramped. The female Police officer shook her head, opting instead to sit gingerly down on the stump on the opposite side of the door. The old man plunked down himself, leaning forward conversationally. Her partner opted to stand, looking out of place and uptight among the relaxed campers. “When did they go missing?” she asked, pulling out a pad to write the information down on. “Two days ago, I think.” he said, scratching his 86 Summertime ear. She paused, looking up at him critically. “You think?” she asked incredulously, her eyebrows knit together. It had taken three hours to make the drive up to the lake. “Well, I know they left two days ago with my Boat around dinner time and I haven’t seen them since. That’s about all I know, except a kid who’s staying here with his family this summer found one of the women’s purses on the beach, broken and buried in sand.” He pulled the purse out from under his chair, handing it over to the officer. She took it gingerly, offering it to her partner. He promptly pulled out a plastic bag, holding it open for her to insert the purse. “What did you do that for?” the old man asked, examining the process. “It may be some kind of evidence.” she explained calmly, carrying on with her questions. She asked him for a description of the group, and he told her all he remembered; two women, one small, one tall, both with dark hair, both wearing shorts when they left. One of them with the purse, strapped across her body. Two men, one with fuzzy red hair, one with longer dark hair, both wearing T­shirts the last time he’d seen them. Next, she asked him for a description of the Boat­ silver on the bottom, white on the sides with a red stripe. Inside there were two benches, and a storage bin in the back, by the engine. Just a plain little Motorboat, and yes it had regular maintenance, thank­you very much. She wrote it all down, her mind going a mile a minute in the background. “And the boy who found it is where?” she asked, when he was finally done talking. “That’s their camper over there.” he said, pointing towards a large, grey camper where, out front, a woman stood, nervously waiting. As they looked towards her, she raised her hand, waving as friendly as she could as her hand shook. “One final question, Mr. Mason,” she said briskly, tapping the book she wrote in shut. “Do you know any of the 87 Summertime people personally?” he shook his head. “So you don’t actually know if they knew how to run your Boat or not?” she said sweetly, an accusation hidden in her words. His face clouded, anger showing. “I am not responsible for their actions after they rent the Boat.” he said brutishly, waving his hand dismissively. She got up off the stump, brushing off her pants. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Mason, if anything happened to them, you may be guilty of negligence.” she turned away, walking up towards where the woman waited, her face becoming more and more nervous. Behind her, Mrs. Mason popped her head out of the camper. “I told you not to rent that Boat ” she said, sitting heavily down on the stump the female officer had left. “I told you ” he shook his head, covering his eyes with his hand. The Police interviewed the frazzled mother, who seemed to be pulling her eyebrows out in chunks. All she could tell them was what the pop man had told them already­ her son found the purse on the beach, buried in the sand. her daughter, apparently, had played with and destroyed one of the lipsticks inside the purse; the mother had bought a replacement for it. By the time the two officers returned to their car, they both agreed on one thing; the four youths were missing, and possibly hurt. They radioed down to Ashland, Calling for backup and a search. *** 88 Summertime “Jack.” Danielle shook him gently, trying to get his attention. His back was bandaged again, this time, with a clean tenser bandage she had found in one of the bins under his bed. She hoped it would keep the wounds clean. It wrapped completely around his torso. “Hey Jack, Jack­” He opened his eyes, staring at her blearily. “I need you to help me help you put this on, okay?” she held up a clean shirt. He closed his eyes, moaning. He stayed where he was for a moment, then, wearily, he lifted one arm. She slid the shirt over it, being gentle, oh so gentle to his back. Her hands shook, the shiver coming from right down in her middle. The last time she had heard someone scream like that, they had died. With the clean shirt on, she now tried to convince him to drink some of the soup that was left. It was almost cool. She held the bowl to his lips, pouring it in his mouth a bit at a time. He was almost too weak to drink it, exhaustion from a combination of pain and fever. “We gotta take the Boat back.” he mumbled, his chin resting on the back of the chair. “Okay.” she said, trying to humor him. “But first, you gotta go to bed.” he moaned again, shaking his head. “Yea, yea come on now.” she coaxed him out of the chair, leaning heavily on her. He was delirious. She put him in bed, face down, his head turned so he could 89 Summertime breathe. He lay there without moving, and for a moment, she thought he had died­ but then, he sighed, and she gently covered him, barely daring to let the covers touch his back, even cleaned and bandaged as he was. She sat down heavily in the chair he had been sitting in, wiping the sweat from her own forehead, the tears streaming down. He was so sick­ so sick, and that monster was between them and help. She wished with all of her soul she had brought the first aid kit from the Boat­ but she had thought they wouldn’t need it, she had thought they would be back at the campground within hours. She leaned her head on the back of the chair, staring at the barred door, thinking. She remembered, once, her mother had blood poisoning, from a cut on her leg. The doctor gave her pills, but they didn’t do very much. Her cousin used to put teabags on it..... she jerked up out of her seat, whirling, yanking out the food containers. They had coffee, why not tea? She remembered the screams when the hot teabags were applied to her mother’s wound, just like Jack had screamed.... and she remembered the relief after, with some of the poison coming out with each tea bag.... and she remembered, most of all, that receding red line, traveling backwards down her mother’s leg to the infection. She spilled the box of beef jerky on the table, scattering it with her hands. Nothing. She pulled out the box of cans, dumping it out on the floor. Some different kinds of soup, but not one tea bag. She pulled out the next box, but it was just the garbage. She threw it over by the door with a clatter. She pulled out the next box, it contained the pucks. She dumped it out, and mercifully, from the bottom, spun across the floor a generic, red label bag of black tea. She grabbed it up, turning it over and over in her hands. Her heart pounded, relief flooding her body. She had something, something that would help. She put the bag 90 Summertime on the table, looking slowly around at the mess she had made. She picked it up, slowly, putting each thing back in its respective box, hoping she hadn’t broken anything, acutely aware, now that this shed, and everything in it, was not hers. She put the last box, the garbage, in the shelf. She looked down the shelf, catching sight of one small, narrow box, wedged in the tiny amount of space between the box that contained the pucks and the edge of the handmade table shelf. It had looked, before she pulled the other boxes out, like it was just part of the table­ but now it was obviously a box, the others no longer flush with it’s side. She pulled it out, looking inside. On top of the items, and chief in her mind, was a bottle of ibuprofen. She pulled it out weakly, putting it up on the table. There was rubbing alcohol, as well as bandages, and a small bottle of iodine. She put it all up on the table, looking at all they had used. “We’re gonna need another 50, y’know.” she said to the sleeping Jack, who didn’t respond. She pulled a chair over by his bed, feeling his forehead. It was moist, his fever high and staying high. She stayed there, looking at him critically. She didn’t want to wake him up already, but she wanted him to take some of these pills, and get his fever down. She drew a cup of water, popping two pills out of the bottle. She sat down in the chair by his head, looking at his face. “Jack.” she stared at his face, waiting. He slept on, the only indication of life being the flutter of a piece of thread on the pillow by his nose. “Jack.” she said firmly, raising her voice. He opened his eyes suddenly, looking at her like she made no sense. “Take these.” she said, holding up the pain pills. He looked from the pills to her and back again like he was trying to decide which was more disgusting. Finally, silently, he took the pills, popping them in his mouth. He refused to sit up, tilting the cup sideways to slosh some of the water into his 91 Summertime mouth. He swallowed hard, the pills sliding down. He lay down again, silently. She stayed there beside him, watching him breathe. Almost an hour later, his fever finally broke. He stopped sweating, finally sleeping peacefully. She pressed her fingers to his wrist, making sure he wasn’t dead. She checked her watch. The time had seemed, to her, to be days­ but it had only been around 7 hours. It was 1:39 AM.. Danielle lay down in her own cot, still watching Jack. She left the lamp burning bright, afraid to let it be dim. She slowly fell asleep, sliding down into darkness, the echoes of her friend’s screams reverberating across her dreams. The rain still pounded down outside, turning the mossy forest floor into mud. Thunder reverberated off the mountains, the light flashing at the closed grate. The monster was still there, pressed against the shed wall. Slowly, he realized that the humans inside had fallen asleep. Water poured down his back, getting into his ears. He shook his head hard, the flaps slapping against his forehead like a Labrador retriever’s, he retreated, now, disappointed. And still very, very hungry. He retreated to the shelter of a Larch tree, leaning up against the trunk. The rain was less here, and he was able to clear his ears of water. He wondered, forlornly, if he would be allowed to go home. The humans weren’t going anywhere­ the man was sick, the woman too loyal to abandon him and get herself out. The crashing of the thunder above him made his mind up. He turned back in the direction of the campground, running his fingers gently along the collar that hung about his neck, hidden by the collar of his shirt. Re­adjusting it so the black box didn’t rub so much on his neck. 92 Summertime *** Dogs barked, pulling at their leads. Campers were packing, grumbling and shooting nasty looks at the uniformed men who strode about the campground. None of them were allowed to leave however­ the officers had made that clear. Each and every person had to be interviewed before they could leave, had to tell all they knew about the four young people who had gone out in the Boat, and hadn’t come back. The frazzled Mother tried to keep her children together, almost impossible when there were so many interesting things to look at, so many nasty looking dogs to pet. Robbie and Emily, in particular, were hard to keep a hold of. Robbie skipped around, telling the officers all about the man he had tried to “get with a crayfish,” and how the “mean lady” had stopped him, and told on him to his mom. Emily seemed to be of the opinion that the “mean lady” had horrible fashion sense, and in particular, horrible taste in lipstick, and this she kept saying loudly to everyone within earshot. The Masons stood in the doorway of their camper, distributing 93 Summertime pop to people still, watching all that was happening outside. Neither they nor the frazzled Mother’s family had any intention of leaving, not until they found out what had happened to those kids. *** The singing of morning birds woke Jack, his back still aching. He felt like he might just break apart, the pain of the treatment last night still fresh in his mind. He got stiffly up, still in pain­ but, he noticed, he felt stronger. He looked around, something nibbling at the back of his mind. Something was missing­ but what? With a jolt he realized­ the door was open, Danielle gone out of the room. He panicked, getting up too quickly, getting dizzy and almost falling. “Danielle?” he called, collapsing into the chair she had left by his bed. “Danielle?” he tried to get up again, tried to get to the door. The world spun, his head suddenly aching again. Danielle burst through the door, her eyes wide. “What is it? Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes darting around the room. He relaxed into the chair, relieved. “Where did you go?” he asked, his voice louder than he intended. Danielle stopped short, a hurt look coming into her eyes. “I was just looking for something to use for a broom.” she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “I took the 94 Summertime machete with me.” she held the knife out for him to see. He looked at the floor, ashamed of himself. “Im sorry I yelled at you.” he muttered, looking down and away. She stood for a moment, her head to the side, considering her friend. “It’s okay,” she said, dropping the machete on the table, “As long as you didn’t rip your back .” “I will be back in one minute, okay? Just stay there.” she ran out the door before he could protest. His eyes were fixed on the machete, which she had left sitting on the table. Before twenty seconds could pass, she was back, carrying a long cedar branch. She leant it against the table, grabbing the bottle of pain pills off the shelf where she had left them. “Here, take these.” she said briskly, handing him two with a cup of water. He took them gratefully, hoping they would end either the throbbing in his back or the pounding in his head. “What happened? He asked, his mind groggy. “You got blood poisoning.” she said, turning to the pot that she had bubbling on the burner. “Blood poisoning?” he asked, trying to make his mind focus. “Doesn’t that mean I need a doctor?” “Yes, ideally.” Danielle said, putting handfuls of something in a red bag into the pot. “But since we are in the middle of nowhere, all you have is me.” she stirred the pot with a spoon. “Do you think you could lay down on those?” she pointed to the other side of the room. He turned his head, taking it in. She had lined about 6 wide logs up, like a bench. They were all level. “Maybe, if we put a blanket on top.” he said, a question in his voice. “Okay, then put a blanket on it while I get this ready.” he got up, grabbing his blanket and throwing it over the logs haphazardly. “What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously. “I am going to make you better.” she said over her shoulder, still stirring the pot. He walked up behind her, looking down into the mix. “What are you going to do with teabags?” He frowned, confused. “my 95 Summertime mom had blood poisoning before, and my cousin used teabags to get the poison out.” she said briskly, taking the pot off the burner. She poured it into the biggest bowl, almost overflowing it. Jack watched curiously. She looked up at him, uncertainty in her eyes. “Its going to really hurt again.” she said, her voice trembling. Jack shook his head. “If it will make the pain stop in the end, I’m all for it.” he said, turning towards the makeshift hospital bed. “No, wait.” she said, directing him toward the chair. “Eat some dried fruit first, you threw up all your soup last night around 4.” she said, pushing the dry food toward him. He gnawed on a blueberry, watching her carefully. She washed out the pot, filling it and setting it back on the burner. The bowl of teabags sat in the middle of the table, steaming ominously. She swept the floor with her cedar branch, sweeping it all out the door and off the step. She left the makeshift broom outside the door, closing the door securely­ sliding the screwdriver back in, popping the wood blocks back in their brackets. When he was done, Danielle straightened the blanket, folding it under itself a few times to give him some padding. He pulled his shirt off, laying it carefully across the back of the chair. He unclipped the bandages, letting it unravel a bit at a time. She took the bandage, turning towards the boiling pot. As he watched, she dropped it delicately in, her fingers withdrawn so as not to get burnt. She let it boil there, turning towards him again, picking up the bowl of teabags. He lay down on his stomach, dreading the treatment that was about to come. He cradled his head , crossing his arms under his chin. She knelt beside him, picking one of the tea bags up out of the bowl. “I told you this is going to hurt, right?” she asked timidly, the steaming tea bag held in her hand. “Just do it.” he said, closing his eyes. She placed the teabag squarely on the worst part of the infection, 96 Summertime where the red line still ran along his shoulder. His whole body jumped at the pain. It felt like she had stuck a hot knife through his shoulder, and tears streamed from his eyes in response. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to be on fire. She placed another one beside it, doubling the pain. She added another, and another, placing them gently, never pushing hard. It was torture, but this time he managed not to scream. The pain was incredible, but yet, it was less than the night before. Soon, the bowl was empty­ every one of those boiling hot teabags on his back. He could feel the infection, now­ it bubbled, it hissed, it screamed its displeasure at being sucked out. It sent crackling pain all along his body, making his limbs jerk and jump. “I’m going to leave them on, for ten minutes.” she told him, getting up. She sat in the chair beside him, watching her watch carefully. The infection still bubbled, he could feel it; but he could also feel it, slowly being drawn out­ each molecule that left his body a relief. Behind the pain was a delicious, healing feeling­ like sinking into a warm bath. Danielle checked her watch­ it had only been two minutes. She watched her friend sadly, watching the pain play out across his face. Blood began to seep out from beneath one of the tea bags, and she ran to the sink, grabbing one of the rags she had sterilized with boiling water. She wiped the blood away, lifting the teabag gently off his back. The wound was bright red there, all of the black scab and dirt removed. She dropped the tea bag into the garbage box, bringing it over to sit beside herself. She watched carefully, but no more tea bags produced blood. Only five minutes had passed. Jack could feel that warm feeling, spreading all the way to his toes. “I think it’s working.” he said, almost giddy with relief. Danielle grinned. It was the best news she had had in days. “ It wont be healed the first time, not when it was that bad.” she 97 Summertime cautioned, “but I hope it will give you some relief from the pain.” six minutes had passed, when the puck suddenly burnt out underneath the pot. She left him for a minute, draining the pot into the sink, fishing the hot tenser bandage out of the boiling water. She pressed it out, holding the doubled bandage with one fork and pressing the water out with the back of one of the many hunting knives that hung on the wall. She hung it over the wash basin sides, leaving it to steam dry. Suddenly remembering the time, she looked down at her watch. It had now been 12 minutes. She went back to Jack, beginning to remove the tea bags. He sighed, the relief immeasurable. Danielle laughed, happy that her friend seemed a little better. “How does it feel?” she asked, picking them off carefully. The undersides, where they had touched his back, came off ringed with black, poison dripping out. She put her hand underneath them as she lifted them, trying to keep it from dripping back onto his back. “Amazing.” he said, waiting patiently for her to be done. “I hoped you would say that.” she picked the last few off. He sat up, looking down into the box. It was a pile of poison, all black and brown, red in places, crystallized pus clinging to some of the bags. “Wow.” he said simply, staring at what had just been pulled out of his body. “Yes, wow.” she said, shoving the box over by the door. “Now, you have to hold still while I clean all that tea up off your back. She washed his back again, and this time, it only stung a little compared to the horrible, keening pain of the night before. She bandaged him carefully, using the fresh bandages she had found, and wrapped him with the tenser bandage, still slightly damp. He put his shirt on over it again, standing up. The room didn’t spin so much now, but he was still light headed. “Here, have a coffee.” she said, pushing a cup towards him. She checked the peephole quickly, unbolting the door. 98 Summertime “What are you doing?” he asked, leaning over so he could see. “Im taking the garbage out.” she said simply, swinging the door open. “Be careful, Danielle ” he shouted, getting up to stand in the doorway. “Jack, I have seen one friend disappear, one friend definitely die, and one friend nearly die of blood poisoning. If that thing really wants to tangle, when I am armed­” at this, she swung the machete up for him to see, glinting in the sun­ “then let it. I’ll castrate it.” Jack laughed, wobbling in the doorway. He suddenly had a picture in his head of the monster, running for its life, Danielle chasing after it, screaming like a warrior and swinging the machete. *** The pop man sat in the doorway of his camper, watching the activity outside. Robbie, the one who had found the purse, sat beside him, drinking a pop. The Police walked back and forth, assessing things. Almost every other camper had left, except for a little girl and her father, who had already packed up. Just the Mason’s camp, and Robbie’s family’s camp remained, where there were people. There were three other camps left, with no owners. One, Robbie knew to be the tall woman’s, one of the ones who had been on the Boat­ he had run past her car when she was coming in, and he 99 Summertime recognized it now, sitting empty in her campground. One of the other two had two tents­ one of them contained the ID of the dark haired man, Jack Vance, and the other had women’s clothing inside. The red haired man, Robbie knew, had been staying in the tent right Across from the pop man’s. The Police left these standing, walking around them, looking, not touching. “Why do they do that?” Robbie asked the pop man, leaning forward to get a better look. “I don’t know.” the pop man said, taking a big sip of coffee. Robbie considered for a moment, watching the Police. “Can I go ask?” he said brightly, hopping up. “Oh, no.” the old man said, laughing at the boy’s eagerness. “Your Mother said stay here, and I think you better.” Robbie considered this for a moment, looking back towards his family’s camper, where his Mother kept his siblings busy, painting. Her eyebrows were almost nonexistent, since she had been pulling them out with nerves. Her lipstick was smeared across her right cheek, and she had forgotten to put on any eye makeup this morning. She was definitely not in the mood to be messed with. “You’re right.” he said promptly, plopping down again. The old man laughed, turning his attention back to the Police. Two Policemen boarded a Boat, taking off down the shoreline in the direction people had seen the young people go. *** 100 Summertime Danielle dumped the box out a safe distance away from the shed, hoping to avoid bringing bears around. As she bent over, the sound of a twig snapping not far away in the bush ahead of her brought her back upright, the machete held high in her hand. “Danielle?” Jack called into the bush, the sound not lost on him. Danielle flinched, wishing he would shut up. Now, whatever was out there, knew she was out there too­ alone. She backed up slowly, her eyes wide, scrutinizing the bushes ahead. Everything seemed peaceful­ the green light illuminating everything, a snail sliming its way up the nearest tree trunk. The creek than ran through the forest not far away bubbled merrily, punctuated by the occasional tumble of a rock down the stream bed. The sun warming the forest pleasantly, a soft breeze ruffling through the fronds of the evergreens that were most dominant here. The Creature peered through the trees, his eyes sharp on the girl who stood, not far away, the knife raised high in her hand. He took her whole body in, analyzing her­ she could bring the knife down fast, and hurt him­ but not if he grabbed her wrist first. He tensed, ready to take her by surprise. 101 Summertime Danielle listened carefully, the silence pressing in on her like a ton of bricks. Every nerve in her body was on fire­ ready for flight, wanting to fight­ knowing that wasn’t a viable option. She backed another step away­ and a soft, brushing sound alerted her to the Creature’s presence. She bolted, running backwards before she even turned, the machete flashing in her hand. “Jack!” she screamed, flying for the shed. Jack stretched out his hand, unable to run, unable to help. Caught off guard, the Creature screamed, running after her. She was up the steps before it had even cleared the bushes. It burst out just as Jack swung the door shut, putting all his weight against it. Danielle pushed against it, too, swinging the padlock shut, dropping the screwdriver in just as the Creature threw its entire weight against it. The door dented, groaning and popping. Danielle screamed, clapping her hands over her ears. Jack grabbed the wooden blocks off the bed, kicking the dent out of the door. He dropped the first in its bracket, spinning to grab the other one as the Creature screamed, throwing its weight repeatedly against the door. It banged its head off the metal in frustration, blood running down its face. He had been so close. Jack dropped the second bracket in place, backing up, grabbing onto Danielle. They held onto each other, staring at the door in terror. “I told you to be careful.” Jack said, his breath coming in short gasps. “I’m sorry.” Danielle sobbed, barely able to keep from urinating. The Creature threw himself against the door repeatedly, screaming and screaming. Suddenly, it stopped. The silence was deafening. “Where is it?” Danielle whispered her voice barely audible. “I don’t know,” Jack whispered back, looking at the door cautiously. Danielle began to cry silently, tears streaming down her face. Jack moved 102 Summertime cautiously, getting up to the peephole by the door. He moved the cover back, pressing his eye up against the peephole­ and the Monster was looking back. He yelled, falling down onto his back, the pain instant and horrifying, taking his breath away. The Monster screeched in triumph, throwing itself against the wall. The two friends cowered inside, Danielle in tears, Jack barely able to breathe from the pain. The monster’s fury lasted forever, until suddenly, it stopped again. “Is it gone?” Danielle whispered, staring at the wall. “I don’t think so.” Jack said, getting up on his feet. Danielle crept up to the other peephole, on the other side of the door. She stood on tiptoe, peeking through the hole. The monster paced, facing the shed at all times, its head tilted down, as if it would charge. “It’s still there.” she whispered, turning to face Jack. “I think it’s going to stay there, too.” Jack said, sitting down heavily in the chair. “What are we going to do?” Danielle asked, tears streaming down her face. The sound of a helicopter cut off their conversation. Danielle grabbed the other chair, jumping up to see through the grate. A helicopter was flying, a distance away, almost right in front of them, but off to the left­ right where Jack had said the Campground was. “They're looking for us” Danielle sobbed, happiness mixing with anguish and fear. “Jack, they're looking for us!” The helicopter moved to the right, stopping far to the right of the grate. She pivoted on the chair, staring at the helicopter, trying to see what it was after. A rope descended from it, extending, it looked like, to the ground. “Are they coming this way?” Jack asked, still sitting gingerly on the chair. “No, I think its picking something up...” she said, pressing her face against the grate. Suddenly, the Helicopter lifted up, and at the end of the rope, like a giant ornament in the sky, swung the Boat. “They found the Boat!” Danielle 103 Summertime jumped down from the chair. “They have the Boat!” Jack grinned, the pain momentarily forgotten. Suddenly, behind them, the creature growled again. The sound reverberated around them, as if it were breathing down their necks. Danielle gasped, spinning around. The creature threw itself against the back wall, snarling, trying to find a weak spot. “I don’t think we can stay here until they get this far.” Jack said, his voice shaking with stress. Danielle grabbed the bottle of pain pills, pulling out two, pushing them into his hand. “What are you doing?” he asked, confused. “Just take them, Jack.” she said, pulling boxes out from under the table. “I think I have a plan.” *** The police woman stood, her hand shading her eyes, staring up at the sky, where the Mason’s boat dangled, shredded. Mr. Mason stood beside her, his mouth gaping stupidly open as he stared at the mess his boat was in. “You found the young kids, right?” he asked, looking down at the policewoman. “No, we did not.” she said sadly, staring sternly up at the boat. Mr. Mason stared from her to the boat, speechless. Robbie stood nearby, listening in. The boat was sure shredded, he thought­ the motor was totally gone. A new 104 Summertime vehicle drove up, the doors popping open. Four men hopped out, each of them carrying diving equipment. Mrs. Mason began to cry, her hand pressed over her mouth. *** Danielle tightened Jack’s bandages, the flashlight shoved into the waist of her borrowed jeans. “We’re gonna have to run, you know that right?” she asked, tightening them as hard as she could. “Yes, I know.” Jack nodded, holding his arms above his head so she could reach around his body. “What are you planning, anyways?” he asked, wincing as she clipped the bandages into place. They were very tight­ but he could still bend, and that’s what he needed. The bandages would keep the wounds from opening again. The creature still threw itself against the wall, but now on a different side. The entire shed bounced and shivered from its efforts. The banging punctuated her words as she explained. “I am going to make a sling, to throw that heavy jar with.” She said, nodding at the coffee jar on the table. “I will put it through the grate at the top, and use the sling to throw it as far as I can to the back.” she gathered up rags and unused bandages, tying them together. Jack nodded, readying himself. “What should I do?” he asked, listening carefully. She stopped to think, looking at him with a blank expression. 105 Summertime “Watch out the back.” she said finally, shaking her head to clear it. “Okay.” he said, hopping up on the cot. He pressed his eye against the peephole, watching carefully. Danielle dropped the bottle of pills into her pocket. “Be ready to run as soon as you see him go.” Danielle cautioned, getting up on the chair. He nodded silently, watching. She checked the watch. 10:20 AM. She put her arms up through the grate, holding onto the sling in one hand, wedging the coffee jar through with the other. She slung the coffee jar in, trying to see towards the back. She swung it in a circle, pumping with her arm, once, twice; and then she let it go. It sailed in exactly the right direction, high and far. Jack saw it disappear among the trees, and all three of them heard it smash. The monster whirled, taking off after the sound with a maddening grunt, squealing as it pumped its legs, trying to run faster and faster. As it took off, Jack jumped down off the cot, as silently as he could, grabbing Danielle around the waist, pulling her down off the chair. They threw the boards away, wrenching the screwdriver out, throwing the door open, and simply ran. The creature still ran in the other direction, fury ruling its mind. Jack and Danielle ran as fast as they could, passing the pile of garbage and the garbage box, still laying on its side in the moss. They ran faster, terror gripping them as they heard the furious, keening, howling scream of the monster as it came around a tree to find the smashed jar of coffee, the sling crumpled in a heap with it. Their feet pounded the moss down as they flew over the raised roots of the trees, hurtling through the forest, barely seeing anything as they flew. Jack’s back screamed at him, the pain a motivation as he gripped Danielle’s hand, pulling her along behind him. Danielle found herself pulled along like a ragdoll behind him, her feet barely touching the ground in places. Even as fast as they went, the monster 106 Summertime was catching up behind them. Suddenly, Jack took off to the left, swinging Danielle along. She tried to be quiet, now; and they ran into a thicket, hiding there, just as the monster burst through the bush where they had been, racing into the forest ahead without stopping, missing them even as they were still visible between the branches of the thicket they hid in. They both fell to the ground, eyes wide, panting. The screams of the monster disappeared ahead of them, fading away. Jack grabbed Danielle, jerking her upright. “He won’t be fooled long,” he whispered, pulling her along again. They jogged, now­ off to the left, towards the campground. The maintained their forward momentum, aware of the need to reach the lake. The creature still ran forward, way off of their actual course. Jack and Danielle ran as far as they could before they had to rest. They stopped in another thicket, the branches so close together they couldn’t be seen inside. They could hear the campground, or at least, they thought they could; there were dogs barking, a lot of dogs barking. Afraid to stop for too long, they tromped on, too tired, now, to run. They kept moving, the instinct to survive overriding all else. *** 107 Summertime The police woman stood, her arms outstretched, in front of the pack of dogs that ran towards the campground. “Stop!” she yelled, waving her arms. The team turned, the man on the wheeled sled behind them squinting at her like she’d lost her mind. “What’re you doing here?” he asked haughtily, as if he owned the whole world. Another officer showed up behind her, backing her up. “I’m afraid we can’t allow any new campers in.” she said, folding her hands behind her back. “I’m not here to camp,” he said gruffly, craning his neck to see behind her. At the sight of the destroyed boat, resting on the beach where the helicopter had left it, his eyes widened. “I bring my dogs up here for exercise, once a week or so.” he said, looking back at the officers. “Even so, we can’t let you in.” she said, keeping her voice level. “There has been an accident, and there are four missing people.” He nodded, the entitled look disappearing from his face. “Do you all need any help?” he asked, his voice lowered now. “No, just please leave now.” she said briskly, turning back to the job at hand. The man on the wheeled sled took another, long look at the destroyed boat, whistling long and low. He turned back towards the town, spitting over the handle of the sled as he went. The baying of the dogs died down in the distance. *** The light was beginning to fade beneath the canopy, making the going harder for Jack and Danielle as they fought to keep going, their exhaustion and terror threatening to overtake them. Danielle was flagging fast, following behind Jack as quickly as she could, 108 Summertime who went surprisingly fast for an injured man. Behind them, the creature had once again caught their scent, after hours of chasing nothing. His fury propelled him forward, his lips drawn back from his teeth, bared at the scent of his prey. Danielle stopped short, listening hard. The sound of the dogs was disappearing, fading into the distance. “Oh, no.” she said, speeding her pace. “Oh, no, Jack­Their going the wrong way!” Jack heard it too. They sped up, the fading light their enemy. Suddenly, Danielle tripped, falling face forward... into water. She sputtered, dragging herself up and out. “Jack!” she shouted triumphantly, standing up, dripping wet. They looked at each other, jubilation plain on their faces. “All creeks lead to the lake!” they said together, taking off down the creek bed, wading in the water. Danielle slipped once or twice, but they made a good pace along the creek. Suddenly, Jack’s feet flew out from under him... and he slid the final distance down the slippery rocks, right into the lake. Danielle fell after him, barely able to avoid hitting him as she spun, out of control, into the lake. Danielle opened her eyes underwater, rolling over. Jack was above her, trying to find the way up. They broke the surface, laughing hysterically. Jack turned around, looking to the opposite shore, expecting to see the campground­ but there was nothing. The smile faded away from his face. “Wait,” he said, turning frantically in the water, “where did it go?” Danielle’s smile faded, tears replacing the happiness. “What do you mean, where did it 109 Summertime go?” Danielle screamed, her heart pounding in her chest. Jack turned slowly, horror settling in. They were nowhere near the campground. Not even close. “No!” Danielle began screaming, her cries echoing off the trees around them. Jack sucked air in, turning towards the other shore. “HELP! ” he screamed, his voice coming back to him. On the far other end of the lake, Robbie thought, for a moment, that he heard a voice.... but the Divers were down near where the boat had been found... and he was sure, he was positive, in fact­ that it was just the divers, shouting back and forth, getting ready to come back before the light failed them completely. Jack and Danielle dragged themselves out of the lake, Danielle in tears. She collapsed on the ground, her body exhausted from the chase. “Where do we go?” she sobbed incoherently, her heart pounding, her chest paining. Jack, unable to understand her, dragged his aching body out of the lake. The pain pills were wearing off, the pain in his back screaming at him again; the poison winning over. He was exhausted, the fever beginning to spike again; he wasn’t sure how much farther he could run. His muscles shook in response to the stress, and it didn’t make things any easier­ the world shook around him, making him feel sick even as he spread his arms out, trying to steady himself against the ground. 110 Summertime The monster watched through the bushes silently. They were in the lake­ he couldn’t possibly follow them there­ he wasn’t allowed to leave the safety of the trees. He had already broken the rules once, walking into the clearing they had made with their boat. He had been punished severely for it. He would not stand it again. They came up into the bushes again, their voices rising and falling. “You said! You promised.” Danielle was screaming, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m sorry!” Jack screamed back, “I don’t know what to do anymore!” Danielle collapsed, grief taking over. She sobbed, completely drained. “Why don't you think of something for once?" Jack turned away, the responsibility of all he had caused falling on him. The monster stepped out of the bushes, creeping up behind Danielle with silent steps, intending to grab her before she could run again, before the infected man could turn around. Jack turned to Danielle, his eyes popping wide. “Look out!” Jack dove for Danielle, grabbing her up and out of the way. They whirled to face it, their backs to the trees. The creature tripped, falling on its own face, thrashing around to get up again. In the dying light, Jack and Danielle ran for their lives, their feet pounding over the forest floor. The monster scrambled to its feet, running after them as silent as it could, hoping to 111 Summertime catch them by surprise. It followed the sounds of their flight­ the pounding of their feet against the wooden tree roots, the scrabble of a rock as they kicked it free, the panting of their breath, periodic rips as their clothing caught on the brambles and brier they ran through, and most of all, the inescapable beating of their hearts. Danielle sped ahead of Jack, turning back to see where the monster was. He had disappeared again, somewhere among the trees and bushes, but she knew, she felt, that he was there. She ran, her bones in her legs cracking and popping, aching as she pushed herself harder and harder to get away. Jack ran behind her, his back bleeding down his legs, barely able to keep up. Suddenly, Danielle split herself away from him, running down into a gully. Jack was alone, running in the dark. “Danielle?” he skidded to a stop, swinging around in the dark. Before he could turn back the way she had gone, the monster was on him. They collided, falling to the ground. Jack screamed in pain, reacting violently as the remaining scabs on his back ripped open beneath the bandages. He punched out, hitting the monster in the head repeatedly. It let him go, screaming in pain. He jumped up, running down into the gully after Danielle. 112 Summertime Danielle stood at the bottom, her eyes wide with horror. All around her, piled high, leaves covering some, flesh still rotting off the ends of some, were human bones. Children’s bones. Adult’s bones. The gully was a trash heap, garbage from the monster. Maggots writhed and pulsed in the upturned skull of a child, sucking and popping, crunching on the bone. Flies whirled up from the heap as she stumbled past, settling back down again, gorging themselves on the remains. Bush rats whisked over the piles, delicate morsels of human flesh hanging from their mouths. Something large growled as she passed, pulling a large bone from the bottom of the pile. There were skulls, separate from the piles­ they were lined up, all along the edges of the gully, looking down on their own remains. Suddenly, one tottered and fell in, skipping over the bumps in the forest floor. It landed by her foot, staring up at her. Maggots writhed in its eye sockets, sucking and popping just like in the other skull. She vomited, the smell overpowering. Jack caught up to her then, covering his face as the smell hit him. He didn’t stop to let the horror register­ he grabbed onto Danielle, pulling her along behind him like a kite. As he passed, he kicked the skull, sending it flying against a femur that stuck out of a particularly old looking pile. It spun in midair, spraying its contents all over the gully. They flew up and out of the gully, dodging the flying filth, exhaustion replaced by the drive, the need to live. They took off to the right, into the deeper bushes­ hoping it would hide them from the monster. 113 Summertime The monster lay on the ground, his head aching. The man had hit him so hard... he sniffed, tears standing out in his eyes. He got to his knees, moaning long and low in his throat. “Get up, Douglas.” a voice came from his left, a voice he knew. He cowered, shielding himself with his arms. “I said get up, or else.” the voice demanded again, sharp and harsh. An electric shock was delivered through the black collar under the collar of his coat, sending him wheeling to his feet, an obedient puppet. He stood with his head bowed, waiting for the order. “Go and get me that meat, boy.” the voice said coldly. The creature nodded, taking off once again after Jack and Danielle. Jack and Danielle ran desperately through the forest, their bodies humming with adrenaline as they ran. Danielle’s eyes were dry now, her heart pounding, all thought absent. Her spine tingled, expecting, at any moment, for the monster to grab her from behind. Jack led her along the shore, running back in the way they had come. The bush was dense here, and they crashed through it, knocking over entire bushes in their hurry. They were finally heading towards the campground, but they didn’t know that. They couldn’t see, couldn’t pause to climb a tree and get their bearings. The monster chased them, no farther away than just behind the next tree, closing in all the time. Pains shot 114 Summertime across Danielle’s chest, hampering her progress. How, how had the monster been allowed to make that pile? She felt the monster's hand trail through her hair, his fingers slipping through it, grasping without achieving purchase. They turned down an easier path suddenly, momentarily confusing the monster­ but just for a moment. It was after them again the next second, pushing itself hard to make up the lost distance. Jack gripped her wrist like iron, but Danielle was having trouble­ tripping and stumbling, having trouble keeping her balance as she was pulled along­ her heart pounding unusually loud in her chest. Suddenly, the monster choked and screamed behind them, and they knew, from the sound, that it had stopped­ stopped without any apparent reason. They didn’t stop, still running as fast as they could. The monster had fallen, its legs wedged into an opening in the rocky earth. It screamed, clinging to the surrounding earth to keep from falling into the cave. It screamed and squealed, calling for help. Nothing and no one came. The monster was all alone, clinging to the dirt. He slid slowly but surely down, his feet dangling. Jack and Danielle ran blindly into the trees, stopping only when the monster’s screams died out in the background. “What stopped it?” Danielle panted, holding a stitch in her side. “I think it got stuck, like there was a hole or something.” Jack slid down a tree, grimacing at the pain in his back. “I think we can rest, just for a minute.” Danielle checked the watch. 9:36 PM. Breathing heavily, she flopped down on the moss, 115 Summertime catching her breath. “How far away from the campground do you think we are now?” she asked, dreading the answer. He shook his head. “I have no idea anymore, don’t ask me.” He got up all too soon, holding his hand out to her. She pushed herself up off the ground, taking his hand. They began to pick their way over the roots and pits in the forest floor, finding their way through the dark. "Do you think it's safe to use the flashlight?" Danielle asked hesitantly, pulling it out of her waistband. Jack's head jerked back. "You mean you've had a flashlight this whole time?" he asked incredulously, stomping over roots, smearing moss to mush. She smiled in the dark­ after everything, it felt unnatural. She pulled the flashlight out, switching it on. It flickered, water between the two layers of glass that made the lens over the bulb. Danielle shook it hard, stopping to smack it soundly off a tree trunk. It came on steady, cutting through the darkness. They carried on into the now complete darkness beneath the canopy, the flashlight now their only advantage. "What was that, back there in the gully?" Jack asked, trying to take the flashlight out of her hand. She held onto it, glaring at him like she would bite his hand off. He gave it up. "A lot of bones." she said, shaking her head. 'Yes," Jack said impatiently, holding a branch out of her way, "I got that. I mean how do that many people go missing and no one notices?" Danielle shook her head again, trying to make sense of it all. "A lot of people go missing off the highways around here." she said, shining the flashlight ahead for him to see. "All I can think of is that some of those bones are some of those people­ 116 Summertime there are flyers all over the place." She shuddered, remembering the wall of missing person flyers at work. There were young people, old people. People, who had been hitchhiking, people who seemed to have gotten flats. People even went missing from their yards, sometimes­ but didn’t they everywhere? Didn’t they always? Didn’t people, sometimes, just decide to pack up and go without telling anyone at all? It happened­ but those bones belonged to somebody. She turned it all over in her mind, holding onto Jack's hand. "Danielle, don't hog the flashlight." Jack said flatly, tugging on her hand. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, shining it ahead for him to see again. Behind them, the creature dug his thick, stubby fingers into the earth, a high pitched whine escaping as it tried to pull itself up. Its leg slipped, almost sending it down beneath the surface. "How far do you think we are from the campground, now?" Jack asked Danielle, tugging on her hand to get her attention. She was going off into left field again, her steps slowing as she pondered on the bones. "What?" she asked, snapping back to attention. "How far do you think to the campground?" He lifted his leg over a fallen log. Danielle completely missed it, almost falling over the log herself. Jack caught her, pulling her upright with a jerk. She lifted her leg a minute too late, clearing the log­ but added yet another bruise. She suddenly felt all of her injuries­ the aching in her legs from the pounding motion of constant running, the scratches all over her face, including on her 117 Summertime eyelids from the branches she ran through, and a sudden, inconvenient pain, right in her back. "I don't know either, and it’s too dark to climb a tree and see." she said, taking the lead, turning her attention back to the task at hand­ survival. She shone the flashlight up, checking the trees around them. Nothing followed them­ not right now, anyways. "I think we should change direction.” she said, pulling on his hand. "What?" Jack stopped dead, facing the way they had been going, as if afraid to lose it. "Look, I think we're going uphill." she said calmly. "What are you talking about? I don’t feel anything!" Jack said, his voice rising with stress. "Oh, calm down, Jack!" she said sharply, her own voice rising now. "I'm just stating my opinion!" she dropped his hand, striding off in another direction. "Danielle!" Jack stood in the same place, staring after her. She had the only light. She turned around, her temper erupting. "Do you know, if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t even be here right now!" he nodded. "Yea, I know!" he said, still refusing to leave his spot. "But shouldn’t we work together to get out of here?" "I don’t know if I want to work together with you." she said, waving the light around. "I don’t know if you can be trusted." she turned her back on him, fully intending to walk away and leave him alone in the dark. "Danielle! Wait!" he called, leaving his spot. He ran after her, the terror of being left alone overiding his stubbornness. "I'm sorry!" "It doesn’t change the fact that all of this is your fault!" she screamed, nearly throwing the flashlight at him. "You just had to have a beer. You couldn’t hold off! You couldn’t have any restraint! You couldn’t say, "oh, I've had a PRESCRIPTION pain pill so I won't have a beer today!" no! Not Jack!" She strode ahead of him, forgetting the need to be quiet. He followed quietly, guilt burning in his chest. “And how many pills did you take, anyways?” she stopped, 118 Summertime turning to face him. He looked away. She knew him too well­ back at the campground, in his small tent, was a bag with 4 bottles of 100 prescription pain pills. Behind them, the creature could hear them fighting. He whined, still stuck halfway in and halfway out of the gaping earth. he stretched his fingers out, searching for something to grab onto. his fingers curled around something, suddenly, and he clung to it, afraid to lose his hold. he let his weight hang on that arm for a few moments, all of his muscles shaking from the exertion of keeping himself from falling into the hole. Jack grabbed her arm, trying to turn her around. She jerked away, still moving fast ahead of him in the bush. He tripped suddenly; falling down amongst the raised, sun baked hard roots, blood sliding out of him onto the ground. he felt weak, and just stayed there­ the wounds crippling. Danielle kept walking, ranting at him for what he had done­ until she realized that he no longer followed. "Oh, yea!" she said sarcastically, turning around. "You so want to apologize! You want to apologize so frigin much you frig off in the middle of a conversation!" her flashlight swept over the area, falling suddenly on Jack. She bit the words off, stopping her rant immediately. He lay on the ground, almost completely white. The tree trunk behind him was covered in blood­ he had been leaning against that just before he grabbed her arm. "Jack?" she said hesitantly, taking a few unsure steps forward. He was knocked out, the blood loss, infection, and stress simply too much. She ran forward, turning him over. "Jack? Jack!" she smacked his face, his head 119 Summertime snapping to the side. "Ow!" he jerked awake; the left side of his face stinging like a million nettles had been rubbed on it. "What’s wrong with you?" Danielle raged, dragging him to his feet. One look told her all­ the back of his shirt was almost completely covered in blood. "Oh my god, Jack!" she said, putting him gently back down again. "Why didn’t you say anything!!" "what am I supposed to say?" he snapped back, his temper getting the best of him­ "oh, gee, Danielle, I know we're running for our lives from a horrible beastie in the middle of nowhere, but hey, can we stop and fix up my back, even though the whole situation is my damn fault!" Danielle shook her head, exasperated. "you're no good to me if you die of blood loss." she lifted his shirt, inspecting the damage. it looked like it was infected again­ bright red­ but when she tried to put her hand close to see if it was hot, like it had been the night of the poisoning, her hand came away covered in blood­ and so she wasnt sure if it was infecting, or just bleeding. "can you walk to the lake? she asked hesitantly, pulling the tenser bandage out partway, finding it matted to his back. "I think I'd better, dont you?" he said tensely, the pain coming back quickly, washing over hm like waves in the sea. Danielle helped him up carefully, her anger forgotten in the face of his pain. together, they wobbled through the bushes, evenually finding the lake. "can you float, or should we walk down a bit to the shore? she asked, looking down the immediate drop to the surface below. "I think we should walk down a bit," Jack looked like he might vomit. Danielle pulled him along, now taking more of his weight than him. He was so much bigger than her, she was forced to wrap her arm around his waist, pressing against his back. The pain made his breath come in short gasps, his body shaking as he tried to walk. twice he stumbled, his 120 Summertime knees hitting the ground hard. Danielle dragged him up each time, her back aching as she fought to keep him going. "Come on, just a bit further," she said, meaning to be encouraging. Jack moaned, his legs almost giving out from under him. the world span, Danielle's voice warped, he was so light headed, he found himself wondering if it was possible for him to just float away, down the lake, to where the campground used to be, if it wasnt gone, faded into another reality, a ghosts world from the past. He wondered if anyone would find his cell, and tell his Mom. "By the way, Miss Vance, your son drank when on pain pills and crashed a boat with three of his friends in it, resulting in the horrible death of two of them and the possible consumption of the third." great. The monster clung to the root he had found, letting his weight hang off. slowly, surely, he pulled himself up, arching his back as well as he could to keep as much of his body as possible on the solid ground­ his feet swinging in the darkness below him, pendulums in the cave. He knocked a rock loose, stopping to listen. It fell for a full 60 seconds before it hit the bottom. he wiggled his ears, listening for any other sounds. There was nothing, now­ the humans had moved far enough away that he could no longer hear them. He pulled himself up abreast of the root, a third of his body out of the hole. The sharp rock at the edge of the opening pressed into his guts, compressing his organs. He reached further, grabbing on to another, more solid root that sprung out of a tree, 121 Summertime pushed down into the ground by the solid pine. He pulled as hard as he could, straining his back muscles­ and suddenly, his legs popped up and out, and he lay on the solid ground beside the hole, panting. he felt along his stomach where the sharp rock had been­ a few cuts, and he felt like he'd been squeezed like a tube of toothpaste, but nothing more. He lay, resting, among the gnarled roots on the pine tree he had used to pull himself out of the hole. Danielle helped Jack down the rocky border that separated the forest from the tiny strip of sand that made the shore. He fell another time, skinning his knee and almost bring Danielle down with him. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, his eyes almost closing. His body was so hot, the fever raging. "Its okay, Jack," she said, pulling him down and into the water, "just sit down." he sat on the sand in the shallows, letting her pull the shirt off. She scrubbed it on a rock, blood running out of it like a waterfall. More blood ran down his back, but it wasn’t as bad as she had thought­ only one wound bled, the rest raging with infection. She washed his back gently, letting the cool water flow down his back as gently as possible. Jack shook, unable to control his body. The water burned like acid in the infection. Tears flowed down his face, and he held his breath to keep from screaming, the importance of silence dominating his thoughts. His whole body jerked with each time she let the water flow down, pus and blood running away in the lake. As she pulled up 122 Summertime more cool water, a twig snapped behind them. Danielle froze, staring over Jack's shoulder towards the opposite shore. She listened, quietly, for a few moments. Jack kept his head down, his eyes wide open. Hearing nothing, she let the water run down his back again, without turning around. "Is it there?" Jack muttered, his heart pounding in his chest. "I don't know." she muttered back, masking their words with the sound of the water. She turned towards the rock she had scrubbed his shirt on, grabbing the tenser bandage from where she had left it. Her eyes flicked up into the tree line, and there, just for a moment, she saw the monster, framed in the moonlight amongst the bushes at the very edge of the forest­ but as she looked, it melted away, retreating once again. She turned back to Jack, reaching around him with the bandage. “it is there." she muttered, her mouth near his ear. "What do we do?" he muttered back, lifting one arm. "It can't come into the water, I don't think." she said, her mouth by his other ear as she wrapped the tenser bandage carefully around. "Why do you think that is?" he mumbled back, turning his head for her to hear him. "I don’t know, stand up." she said, helping him gently up. He grimaced, his back screaming at him in protest. "it really hurts, Danielle." Jack said, his voice taking on a hint of desperation. "I know, Jack." she said, tugging the tenser gently, progressively tighter. The pain became concentrated, thick and cloying­ like putting a spoonful of lard in his mouth. His whole body shook. "Danielle, I can't run." he said, turning his head, trying to face her; but she stepped deftly behind his back, keeping her face flat. "Just give that thought a minute." she said, remembering the pills she had out in her pocket back at the shed. she stepped in front of him, pulling the pills out of the deepest part of her pocket. "Where did you get those?" he asked incredulously, his mouth hanging open. she 123 Summertime grinned, popping them open. "I brought them with me from the shed." she said, putting three in his hand. "Take them with water." she stepped back, pulling out two for herself. They took them quickly, neither wanting to stoop down to drink for too long, not with the monster right there watching. The water tasted like rust. "Why do you think he's not attacking us?" Jack whispered, trying to make his back muscles relax within the confines of the bandage. Danielle stood facing Jack, looking slyly over his shoulder, finding the creature still standing in the same place, retreated only a little bit into the tree line. "Maybe he's afraid of it." she said, still looking over his shoulder. Jack shook his head­ it was hard to think of such a murderous monster as being afraid of anything. "Afraid of what?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "The lake, the water." she whispered back, taking her eyes off the creature on shore. She looked down at her hands, the red still running off of them. "Are you feeling any better now?" she asked, concerned. Jack stretched, evaluating. "I think so." Danielle bowed her head, looking down at the water. "It’s still not attacking." she mumbled, a smile spreading across her face. Jack watched her wearily, fiddling with his shirt, wet and cold against his skin. "We just have to stay out here, in the water." she said, looking up at him with a smile on her face. "We can wade all the way to the campground, as long as there are shallows." Jack smiled, his brain making the connection. "So we're safe?" he asked tremulously, letting go of his shirt and crossing his arms against the cold. "I think so." she said brightly, turning in the direction she thought the campground would be. "Let’s try it, anyways." she reached back, grabbing his hand again. Together, they began to wade down the shoreline, the bottle of pills rattling in her pocket, water dripping off his shirt. 124 Summertime The creature followed alongside, confused. Up until now, the humans had been in and out of the water­ but now, they stayed in, strolling along like they didn't have a care in the world. It was infuriating­ but the pain of punishment was greater than this, and he shied away from the water, afraid to break the rules. Danielle checked discreetly over her shoulder, feeling its eyes on her back. Sure enough, it shadowed them, just in the darkness under the trees. "Its following." she said, turning her attention back to getting through the shallows, when she couldn't see her feet. Jack, his left arm crossed over his stomach, just smiled. He could think of nothing to say­ nothing that wouldn't reveal the guilt burning inside. The crash was his fault, the death of two friends was his fault, and now it looked like he might make it out of this horrible dream alive. His only relief was that Danielle was still alive, walking beside him to safety, even as the monster trailed them, its eyes like heat against his back. The infection burned, it sizzled, it hissed, and it was motivation­ he knew, above all else that he had to get out, and get to a doctor. He had commitments­ he had a business to get back to, he had an apartment he had left empty­ food still in the fridge, his mail delivered each day to his dining room table by a helpful neighbor­ his dog, Luther, left alone in the kennel. He let Danielle lead the way, his mind wandering for the first time since the monster had attacked the hunting shed. He wondered what time it was, and if the sea bus had stopped running yet. He pictured it, floating gently across the water, connecting North Vancouver with the rest. He used to ride it every day, watching as home came closer and closer across the water. He wondered, too, if the train was running right now­ he didn't 125 Summertime know what time it was, or what day­ but on Sundays, when he wasn't gone, he would hop on the train right from work and, instead of heading home, he would head to his mother's house. he would do chores for her, fix the taps, plunge a drain, mow the lawn if she needed it, fill her watering cans so she didn't have to do it, balancing them precariously on top of her walker while her high powered hose spit and spun all over, soaking most of her small garden anyways. Danielle led the way, ignoring the daydreaming man who followed silently, splashing through the water. She couldn't relax, watching the monster as it crept along beside them, watching too. Each time the shore jutted out, she had to yank Jack's hand hard to get him going in the right direction; he would stumble, splash, correct himself and move on. She wondered about him; would he be alright when all of this was over. But she needed to concentrate, turning her attention away from him again as the shore leveled out, once again running parallel to their track. She let go of his hand, turning in a circle to get her bearings. She stopped suddenly, disconcerted­ wasn’t this where the boat had crashed? She turned left to right, confused. But it couldn't be­ the boat had crashed, she realized, on the other side of the lake. She shook her head, turning back to Jack­ but he was gone. "Jack?" she screamed, staring into the trees on the shore. The creature still stood, staring at her from just beneath the shade of the trees, the moonlight that reflected off the lake illuminating him just enough for him to be seen. She turned back the way she had come, thinking that he had gone back; but there was no one there. "Jack!" she screamed into the trees, taking two uncertain steps toward the shore. The monster snarled, stepping between her and the trees, coming out in the light for the first time. She stared at him, speechless­ 126 Summertime somehow, he had separated them. Drool ran down his chin in streams as he glared at her, his forehead wrinkling as he snarled. She backed up again, her foot slipping off the edge of the drop­off. She fell into the water, floundering. There was no bottom beneath her feet­ so she scrambled back to the shallows, choking and spluttering. The bottle of pills floated up and out of her pocket, breaking the surface and going with the tide away, away down the lake. She got her footing again, in the soft, slippery sand by the edge of the drop­off. She floated her way further in, afraid to fall again. The drop­off angled in, becoming nonexistent just a few feet away. "Jack???????!!!!" she screamed as loudly as she could, her lungs aching from the effort, water sputtering up and out. "Hey!" he shouted, appearing between the trees only a few feet from shore. Sweat ran down his face, his cheeks flame red. He wobbled dangerously whenever he tried to stand, as if he would fall on his face. He stumbled a little, and turned away for a moment; revealing the pus and bile that stained his shirt, the infection literally bubbling out of his body without treatment. He was delirious with fever from it, wandering around in his own world. The creature snarled, darting once again to be between them. Danielle looked from Jack to the monster, realizing one horrible thing; she was the target. Jack leaned against a tree, resting. the monster turned towards him, sniffing the air gently­ totally harmless. "Jack, go for help!" she shouted to him, trying to move ahead down the lake shore. The monster snarled, keeping track with her as she walked. "Danielle!" Jack said stupidly, staggering into the lake again. the monster, distracted by her forward movement, bared his teeth, the tusks jutting out like deadly weapons. he ran for Jack, his warped hands reaching out to grab him. as he ran, he brought his arm up­ and in his hand, shining in the moonlight, was 127 Summertime a sharp, shining pickaxe. Seeing the monster coming, Jack ran into the lake, splashing and spraying water in crescendos over his head. Danielle caught his arm, yanking him away from it, down the shoreline. The monster returned to the shadows, thwarted. It snarled and snapped, fury pulsing in its heart. "What were you doing?" Danielle was sobbing, hanging onto Jack's arm. He staggered, blinking stupidly. "I don’t think I'm doing so well, Danielle." he muttered, stumbling almost to the edge of the drop off. He held onto Danielle, dizzy and disoriented. He slowly slid down to the lake floor, resoaking his shirt, and his jeans. Danielle sobbed, lost as to what to do. Soon, the shallows ended, and all there was, was drop­off ­ nothing to walk on. And there, horrible and deadly, was the monster. "Jack, he's not interested in you anymore." Danielle whispered to him, turning so she could speak to him without the monster seeing. She bent over to be on face level with him, sitting on the lake floor. Jack looked at her, seeing nothing. The poison was affecting him­ he felt heavy, heavy, and stars winked in front of his eyes. his legs felt like mush, like they wouldn't support his weight­ and his hands felt weak, too weak to hold onto anything, much less Danielle's hand in the dark. "Jack? Jack!" she shook him, trying to make him understand. His head flopped suddenly, and she grabbed it, trying to hold it upright, and prevent a neck injury. "Hey, I think I'm dying." he said, snickering, as if it were funny. Danielle's breath caught in her throat, tears pouring down her face. The monster hovered on the shore, pacing. Something caught Danielle's eye, floating in the water about 15 feet from the drop­off. It was a long, worn piece of drift wood­ probably broken off a tree, floating about in the lake for years. Kids used them for boats. Inspiration struck like a hammer, and she rushed out to grab it, 128 Summertime first running, and then swimming. She got up alongside the wood, testing it with her weight. It supported her weight easily, barely even bobbing in the water. She grinned, victory in her heart. She pulled it along behind her, swinging it in the water like a canoe. It was long and almost flat, like it had been hewn in half at some point, and it maneuvered easily in the water. "Jack, Jack" she tried to get his attention, moving quickly over to him in the water. The monster snarled, seeing her plan. She pushed her friend up and onto the makeshift boat, his body easy to move when bobbing in the water. He murmured, the pain no longer just in his back­ now it was in his chest, his stomach, his legs, his arms. The monster rushed into the lake after them, no longer able to stand watching on the shore while his prey escaped. Danielle screamed, pushing Jack out into the deep water, swimming frantically after him. Jack lay with his face pressed against the damp wood, barely conscious. The monster reached out, grabbing Danielle by the hair. Her scalp still not fully healed, she shrieked in pain as he pulled her back, the pickaxe raised in the air. Jack's body, from somewhere in its stores, pumped suddenly with adrenaline. He sat up on the drift wood, his strength pulsing through his body. He swung his leg up and over, sliding off of it into the water. The cold water on his body shocked him awake­ his shoes heavy, the jeans restrictive. Not daring to lose his shoes, he made do as he swam towards Danielle, who twisted and turned to avoid the stabbing pickaxe as it came down again and again where the monster thought her body would be. Her scalp bled again, 129 Summertime blood running down her arms as she clung to the monster's hand, trying to keep him from pulling her scalp off. The water calmed the pain that ran through his body, and the danger Danielle was in woke him up. He threw himself at the monster, which was distracted by the girl he tortured. "LET GO!" he shouted it right in the monster's ear, shocking him. He released her immediately, dropping the pickaxe and clapping his hands over his ears. He squealed and screamed, plunging his head in and out of the water­ as if the sound had driven him insane. The pickaxe sank to the bottom, right by his feet. He tripped over it, hitting his head on a large rock that jutted out of the bottom. As he floundered, Jack and Danielle took off on their makeshift boat, aiming for the trees they saw on the other side of the lake. The monster screeched after them, like a child throwing a tantrum. It tried to follow them, but at the drop off he fell, sinking like a stone. He caught onto the ledge that made the drop off, dragging himself back up onto it underwater. The huge pit of Glacier Lake stretched beneath him, black and mysterious. By the time he broke the surface, choking and wheezing, the two of them were halfway across the lake, paddling with their hands towards the far side. To get to them, the monster would be forced to run around the loop of the lake to where they were­ he could not swim. He stood in the shallows, screaming at them in wordless fury. Jack, his strength once again failing him, lay back down on the drift wood. Danielle bled, still paddling them towards the safety of the opposite shore. "Thank you, Jack." she said tearfully, reaching out to touch his leg. "s'okay" he mumbled, his face almost in the water. 130 Summertime Far down the lake, Robbie's mother jerked awake from where she had been sleeping by the fire. She listened carefully, wondering what had woken her up. A long, wailing, bone­chilling scream sounded suddenly in the night. She jumped up, racing towards the police vehicle that sat at the edge of the campground­ the officer inside neglecting his duty, fast asleep. She pounded on the window as another scream sounded down the lake. "Wake up!" the officer jumped out of the car groggily, stumbling around. "What is it?" he stammered, pulling his gun. "Listen!" they froze, listening carefully. Splashing was coming from somewhere down the lake. A man's voice rang out. "LET GO!" a woman screamed then, and it was mingled with an inhuman, savage sounding screech. The officer ran to the lake's edge, peering up and down the shore. It was impossible to tell which way the sounds had come from­ but he was almost sure it came from his right, down near where the boat had crashed. He ran to his vehicle, grabbing the radio. Robbie’s mother stood at the edge of the lake, listening carefully. She heard the inhuman sounds three more times­ but then, no other sounds came­ just the pitch black, cold night. Danielle got them to the opposite shore, pulling Jack back onto the driftwood twice. She tried to drag him off, but the feeling of the solid ground beneath him woke him up on its own. He dragged his body up the sandy strip, crawling in between some wild raspberry bushes that lined the shore, and a small juniper bush. He lay on a pile of damp birch leaves, fallen from the tree in the wind of the storm the night before. Danielle 131 Summertime seized one end of the driftwood, dragging it up, up, up onto the sand. She left it there, pulling the flashlight out of its place, wedged securely in the tight waistband of the borrowed jeans. She flicked the switch, barely daring to believe it had survived­ but it had. It shone brightly, cutting through the night. She went to Jack, kneeling beside him on the soft bed of leaves. She held his head in her lap, leaning against the white birch trunk and picking raspberries she could reach to feed to him, hoping the food would make him stronger. They were mostly green, here in the darkest shade­ but they were still edible. She held the flashlight in her other hand, shining it around them in the dark. On the other side of the lake, the monster raced through the trees, making his way in the shortest path he knew to get to the other side of the lake. Still, he knew, it would take hours­ he could only hope that the man was too sick with the rancid smelling infection that made him inedible to travel very far. He knew that the woman would not leave him. Danielle gently moved his head off her lap, standing up, shining the light at the bush, it was loaded with berries, more than enough for them to eat. They were mostly ripe on top, too­ and she hadn't eaten since the previous morning. The watch told her that it was 2:56 AM. using the light, she found the ripest berries, using her shirt as a basket. She knelt down beside Jack again, shaking him to wake him up. "Can you sit up?" she asked blearily, yawning widely. He pulled himself up, leaning gently on his side against the tree. She shone the light on the raspberries, her shirt full to brimming with the fruit. They 132 Summertime ate them all, drinking them down with lake water Danielle got, using her hands to carry it. Jack fell asleep again, laying in the safety and cover beneath the juniper and raspberry bushes. Danielle ate a few more berries, feeling the nutrition racing through her exhausted body, it spread like a tingle to every limb, and she was amazed how little time had passed when she felt so hungry. She had been running almost constantly all that day, but still. Jack slid down the tree, once again laying beneath it, Danielle, exhaustion ruling, lay down beside him. he lay on his stomach, and he wrapped his arm around her, trying to keep her warm with his body heat. laying together, they drifted off. Danielle slept only a short while, waking up abut an hour and a half later with a jerk, in a panic. How long, she wondered, had they been laying there? she checked her watch, and was driven to her feet in anxiety at the amount of time that had passed. Her watch read 4:24 AM. the sun was making the sky bright, now­ rising between two mountains behind her. Beneath the canopy, however, it was still dark­ and she used the flashlight to check around them, panicking at every shape she saw. Jack was woken by her panic, sitting up quietly to lean against the tree trunk once more. "What is it?" he asked groggilly, yawning and stretching. Danielle screamed, whirling to face him. she laughed to see it was only Jack, and she dropped down to sit on the ground. Jack looked at her like she had lost it, reaching up to grab more berries for himself. "How do you feel?" she asked, looking at him closely. "I feel a lot better, now­ except for the ants on my back." he joked, chewing on a green berry. "What?" Danielle jumped up, pulling him forward by the shoulder to check his back. "I'm kidding, Danielle!" he said, laughing. "That is just not funny." she said, her temper flaring. he stopped laughing immediately, not wanting to 133 Summertime make her mad again. "It's amazing how much better I feel, actually." he said, getting stiffly to his feet. He began to pick berries again, using his shirt as Danielle had done, filling it up with berries. he sat carefully back down beside her when he was done, and together they polished off the lot, Danielle even picking more after they were done those together, they went down to the water, drinking some with their hands. As the sun rose, the monster ran through the forest, finally rounding the bend that made the end of the oblong lake. He grunted and panted, sweat running down his body. The pickaxe shone in his hand, reflecting light down the lake. If anyone had been looking that way at the campground, they could have seen it; but they were all preoccupied, looking for the source of the horrible sounds from the night before on the wrong end of the lake. Divers searched for drowned victims, bloodhounds searched for their scent. so far, they had found the pool of blood in the clearing­ but nothing else. The storm had washed it all away. They did lead, however, on another scent­ their lowlling calls echoeing off the mountain walls, changing in pitch and frequency whenever they hit on it. Danielle, kneeling by the water, thought she saw something bright flash far down the shoreline. “Jack, it's coming" she said, scrambling to her feet. "What?" he asked, jerking upright, staring at the opposite shore. "no, no its coming around! look!" She pointed at where she thought she had seen the flash, holding her breath. a moment later, it flashed again­ sunlight off the head of the pickaxe. "Come on." he grabbed her hand, pulling her along. "Wait!" she let go of his hand, running down the shore. "Danielle, come on! we have a head start!" he stormed, holding out his hand impatiently. She ran down the sandy 134 Summertime strip, stopping at the end. She held tight to a sapling, bending way over with her head in the reeds, stretching out her hand to grab something. When she came up, she held the bottle of pain pills in her hand. Jack goggled at her, lost for words. "How do you keep doing these things?" he asked incredulously, taking the pills she offered him. "I'm a woman, sweety. I know what I'm talking about." she said smugly, tucking the bottle into the smaller pocket of her jeans. They took off then, the pain in Jack's infected back slowly dieing away as the pills took affect. the first night, they had done almost nothing; now, they dulled the pain, so that it didn't grate so hard on him­ it was possible to run and breathe at the same time. Even just an hour and a half of sleep gave him a boost. They ran along in the forest, jumping over roots and rocks and juniper bushes easily. The monster pursued them from a distance, their scent wafting back to him on the breeze occasionally­ just enough to tell him that yes, they were ahead of him still, and yes, they were moving­ running from him again. He changed direction as the wind did, running in a broken line after the prey, who got farther and farther away. Jack and Danielle ran along, Jack taking it easy for now. Danielle ran a little ahead, watching out for the monster. She carried the flashlight and pain pills in her waistband and pocket, listening carefully for boats on the water. The shore began to angle up, and suddenly, they found themselves standing on the edge of a small cliff, looking down at the churning water that smashed itself against the sharp rocks at the base of the cliff. Looking up, from here, they could see the glacier that fed the lake­ just part of it, a tiny white spot at the very top of the huge, menacing green mountain. From here, finally, a tiny stretch of land far, far down the massive lake, Danielle caught sight of the 135 Summertime campground. From where they were, it looked empty­ no more tents, no more boats. They could see only the beach, and maybe ten feet back, but when they had left it had been full. Danielle stood there, staring­ a horrible possibility churning in her mind. "Jack, what if everyone went home?" she asked quietly, staring down the shoreline to where the boats should be. "That's ridiculous." he said firmly, pulling her along by the hand. She left the spot unwillingly, her bottom lip trembling as she fought to keep her cool. If noone was there, there would be no protection from the monster. If noone was there, it would pursue them. it would follow them all the way there, and catch them on the way out, maybe ripping them out of the jeep­ or, she thought darkly, just her. They kept moving through the trees, all the time moving towards the campground, which was still so very, very far away. Danielle felt her strength flagging, and wished she could get to some water; but she couldnt, of course; the shore was still nonexistent, the cliff rounding off as it finally declined. As soon as the water was close enough again, she ran to get a drink, leaving the safety of the trees. From far down the shore, the creature screamed in ecstasy at the sight of his target. Her head snapped up, staring down the shoreline. It hurtled towards her, not far enough away­ not now. It got to the other side of the cliff all too soon, running up as they had done, coming hard and fast. Jack held his finger to his lips, warning her to be silent. He pulled her behind some trees, pointing at the ground. There was an opening there, a small cave in the earth. She crawled into the opening, barely wide enough to fit her, and then held her hands out to Jack. He shook his head, held his finger to his lips, and disappeared. A few seconds later, she heard the pounding feet of the beast stop just outside the cave entrance, above her head. Holding her breath, 136 Summertime she pressed her back against the back wall of the cave, praying Jack was out of the way. The creature's breathing came harsh and fast­ he wheezed, he sputtered, standing there above her head. Its shadow fell into the cave's opening, slanting down to display itself on the opposite wall of the cave. Danielle tried to keep her breathing calm and even­ tried to remain unnoticed. The creature sniffed and snarled above her, searching the surrounding forest, bending so his nose was almost on the ground like a truffle pig's. Suddenly, it thrust its head into the opening, only inches from Danielle's face; but facing the other way. She held her breath, her lungs frozen half expanded. The monster stared around the cavern, twisting his head in every direction­ except, thankfully, towards Danielle. It withdrew its head with a snarl, knocking dirt and debris into the opening. a piece of dirt got in her eye, and she snapped it shut, sucking air in sharply. Above her, the monster heard it. The cave made the sound travel oddly, and he spun to the right, glaring into the trees. He charged off, ready to catch her. Jack watched from a safe distance, leaning weakly against a sapling, surrounded by the leaves of a Saskatoon berry bush. His stomach cramped, and he was half bent over in the bushes from the pain. He was nauseous, the world spinning periodically. The pain pills seemed to be making it worse­ and they didn’t do much for the pain, just made it more bearable. He found himself wishing, wishing dearly for one of the opiate pain killers he had in his tent. The pain was too much for him to be able to properly hide. He couldn’t have gotten down into that cave. As he watched, Danielle clawed her way out, getting up on her feet. He checked the trees behind her, and then hobbled weakly over. “Where did you go?” Danielle was 137 Summertime sobbing, holding her eye. He ignored her question for a moment, focusing on her injury. “Let me see.” He tilted her head back, spreading her eye open. She hissed with pain, her eye burning. Deftly, he used his fingertip to remove a small, cracked piece of some kind of leaf from the corner of her eye. He let her go, stepping back to lean, once again, against the nearest tree. His strength, built up after the sleep he’d had, was failing fast. Danielle blinked furiously, the pain dissipating. “Where did it go?” she asked shakily, turning right and left. “That way.” Jack nodded towards the trees behind her. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. It had been inches from her face­ just there, close enough that even her breath would have given her away. “It will come back, when it doesn’t find one of us that way.” Jack said, holding out his hand to Danielle. His face was red­ she could see little veins in his skin, standing out at the pale edges, around his eyes and around his mouth. “Here, you need more of these.” She said, pulling the pills out of her pocket. Jack grimaced­ he was beginning to hate the sight of pills. He swallowed them dry, grimacing at the taste. “You’re really ready to get out of here, aren’t you?” Danielle grinned, watching the expressions play across her friend’s face. “Aren’t you?” he said incredulously, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans. Danielle nodded, the smile fading away. “Fair enough.” Jack tromped past her, heading towards the trees behind her. “Jack!” Danielle spun around, confused. “I thought you said it went that way!” “it did.” He kept going, ducking under the branches of a low hanging choke cherry tree, the red fruit plentiful enough to bend the boughs. “Well, why are you going that way then?” she took off after him, jogging to keep up. Still, even in the light of day, she was afraid to be left alone for too long. “I’m not.’ He said simply, lifting his legs 138 Summertime high to get over a fallen tree. He reached back, lifting Danielle easily up and over the trunk. She stared at him, wondering how extensive the infection was. “I haven’t lost my mind.’ He said firmly, glaring back at her. Danielle sniggered, the look on his face too comical not to laugh. He took it as an insult, striding ahead of her again, almost leaving her behind in the uniform green world they had been trapped in for so long. “Wait, Jack! Don’t be mad!” She ran to catch him again, grabbing onto his hand. He slowed down then, feeling guilty­ what right, he thought, did he have to be angry when they were only stuck out here because he had been on drugs? In stony silence, they carried on, soon coming back to the lake shore. Danielle stopped to get a drink, and now, Jack stopped to wait for her. He got up on a rock that jutted up out of the lake bed just a few feet from the shore, in the shallows, and looked as far down the shoreline as he could from there. Now that they were down from the cliff, he couldn’t see the campground anymore­ but he could see the gas spot, an empty lawn chair where the attendant usually sat. He grinned­ they wouldn’t have far to go now. In the forest off to the right of them, a twig snapped. Danielle jumped up, racing to Jack. He grabbed her hand, pulling her along again. Together, they disappeared into the bushes at the edge of the lake; leaving no evidence of their presence, save for a few negligable foot prints in the sand. The creature crept out of the trees, scenting the air. He could smell his prey, but at every turn, he came up empty. He knew they would need to come to the water to drink, however­ every prey animal did eventually, and that was usually where he caught them. Memories flooded his mind­ the young male prey he had been chasing, all too easy to find what with the bright red jacket he had been wearing. The look of surprise on his face when he had put the weapon he had 139 Summertime carried on the hunt right through his skull. His relative, come to look for him, standing out just as brightly in neon purple, her hair pulled to the side­ which made it easier for him to find her artery. He sniffed along the ground by the edge of the water. The female’s scent was heavy here. Drooling, he followed the smell along the ground, ending up with his face in the leaves of the berry bushes at the edge of the shore, the scent mingling once again with the muck, grime, and moss of the forest floor. With a frustrated hiss, he leapt up, following the now weak scent into the forest. Danielle and Jack hurried ahead, their footsteps silent as they purposely leapt roots and dodged stones, trying to remain ahead, and quiet. Danielle tried to check the watch, but it was no use; it had stopped working, the time stuck at 5:47 AM. They went along so silently that Jack kept having to stop and look back, confirming where Danielle was; twice, he could not find her, and had to shout out. The monster took advantage, tracking them by their raised voices alone for a while. The infected man left a trail so obvious, it was hard not to follow; he stumbled, he tripped, he crushed leaves and left long scrapes in the dirt, and most of all, he bled. Soon, it became obvious that Jack was too weak to carry on. His head drooped periodically, and he kept slowing down, veering off the track with a dreamy look in his eyes. “Jack, come on!” Danielle jerked him by the arm, trying to keep him on track. “pay attention!” but soon, Jack had stopped altogether, and stood, wobbling, in the middle of a clutch of birch trees, 140 Summertime staring dreamily up at the leaves and not moving. Danielle felt his forehead, and the fever terrified her­ he was as hot as an electric blanket, as hot as she had ever felt another human being be. He rolled his head around, staring at the surroundings. Danielle shook him, standing on tiptoe to catch his eye. “Jack,” she shook him hard, almost knocking him off his feet. “Jack, come on, follow me.” She said firmly, catching his eye. He blinked stupidly, his forehead creasing with concentration. “Follow Danielle.” He said simply, focusing sharply on her, forcing his body and brain to listen. She nodded, taking him by the hand, pulling him with her. She searched for a safe place they could stop, but she knew the monster was not far away. It followed quickly, closing the distance between them, following the scent of the injured man’s blood. It stank, now­ he smelled like rotting meat, putrid and heavy, he was easy to follow. The creature had his nose to the ground, following quicker and quicker, when suddenly, the scent changed direction. He stopped for a moment, confused; but the scent did not lie, and therefore he took off after the new trail without a second thought. At the end of this trail, drinking water from the lake thirstily, was a large bear, with a severely infected foot. Danielle, their good fortune unknown to her, rushed Jack along, dragging him as quickly as she could through the forest, going faster and faster. He whimpered now and then­ the pain now unimaginable. It spread like fire through every vein, throbbed in the ends of his fingers and toes. He retreated into his mind, trying to pull away from the agony he was experiencing. He let his body be pulled along blindly, trusting Danielle to 141 Summertime get him to safety. He thought about the rules he had learned as a child; what his mother used to tell him; “do what you want, but don’t hurt anybody­” she used to say, every morning when she did his coat up­ “but remember that good or bad, whatever you send out into the world will come back to you three times over.” He drifted along, hiding from the pain, wondering if this was pay back. Danielle searched desperately for a place to hide, but nothing seemed safe enough­ there was no more shed, and a bunch of branches surrounding them would neither protect or hide them. As she walked, pulling along Jack, who was almost not there anymore, she suddenly came upon an opening in the raised cliff she walked beside. It was a cave, just small, but it hooked in from the door, creating a hiding place beside the opening. She stopped suddenly, and Jack almost tripped over her. The jolt of the stop sent more pain reeling along his body, burning and itching even inside his veins, inside his heart. He breathed deeply, trying to suck in as much air as possible­ he felt like he was suffocating. Danielle shone the flashlight into the cave, wary of danger, now­ just 5 days earlier, she wouldn’t have thought anything of walking right into the cave, investigating. Now, things were different­ she was careful, leaving Jack by the mouth of the cave to inspect the inside. Finding nothing, she returned to Jack, pulling him inside. She left him sitting on a rock that jutted up out of the floor of the cave, rushing outside, her heart pounding at the thought of being alone. But it was neccesarry for her to leave­ the floor of the cave was entirely sand and dirt, and Jack couldn’t lay on it without making the infection worse. She rushed outside, running full tilt for a pile of fallen cedar boughs, ripped down during the storm. She picked two good sized ones, rushing backwards carrying them, forcing 142 Summertime them into the narrow cave opening. They got stuck for a moment, and Danielle threw her entire body backwards in desperation, determined to get them in before she was seen. They popped through the opening, brushing all the sand and dirt off the rocks around the opening. She dragged the branches to the hiding place she had found, well hidden from the outside looking in. she lay them carefully, making the softest part in the middle. She got Jack up, terrified by the temperature of his skin. His breathing was labored, and he no longer even bothered to open his eyes. She lay him down gently on his stomach, tears pouring out of her eyes silently. As soon as he was lying down, she pulled his shirt up­ and vomited at the sight of the mess his back was in. Multiple red lines extended from his back all the way around his torso. The infection literally bubbled pus, stench emanating from his rotting flesh. Now, between the cuts, black spread over his previously uninjured skin. It looked like bruises, creeping along the ripped up flesh of his back. Danielle sobbed, her heart aching for her friend­ she didn’t know how much longer she could keep him going. The poison moved faster than they did, and without a doctor, and medicine, she was sure, she was positive that Jack would die, too. Jack swam back to the world, taking some of the pain, letting it roll along his body like burning hot irons. “I’m slowing you down.” He mumbled, liquid running out of his eyes. Danielle kept her voice steady, taking deep breaths to slow her heart beat. “No, you’re not, Jack.” She said cheerfully, pulling the bottle of pills out of her pocket. “You’re doing fine, you’re doing great.” She smiled brightly at him as he cracked one eye, staring at her incredulously. He 143 Summertime sighed, letting his eye slide shut again. It took too much energy to keep it open, to let his brain process images. Danielle got up quietly, looking around the cave. At one end, half buried in the sand, she found a two litre pop bottle. She yanked it out, dumping the sand out of the inside. The lake was not far away, just through the trees outside the cave opening. She steadied herself, turning to stand directly in front of the opening, looking out. “Jack.” She rose him from his stupor. He cracked one eye again, moaning low in his throat. “I’m going for water.” She said simply, keeping her voice strong despite her pounding heart and trembling body. He stared at her, not making connections. “stay here, don’t move.” She said, and ran out the opening before she could talk herself out of it. Jack lay there, listening for her footsteps. As they faded away, his eyes fell on the bottle of painkillers she had left beside him on the cavern floor. He stretched his hand out, grabbing onto them. It took all of his energy. He dragged them towards him lifting the top half of his body agonisingly off the floor. He dumped the entire bottle into his other hand, staring at the pills. The bottle reccomended no more than 6 in one day. In his hand, he held 67. He stared at them dully, contemplating ending his pain permanently. Danielle would leave him then, he thought­ assuming it was the infection and rot that wracked his body that had taken him. But the responsibility he still bore won out. With a groaning sigh, he painfully poured the pills back into the bottle, all except for four. He swallowed them dry, his tongue thick and aching on the top of his dry, cavernous mouth. 144 Summertime He let his body Fall again, the bottle of pills in one hand, the lid to the bottle in the other. He lay there, miserable, waiting for Danielle to return. Danielle raced through the trees, her heart pounding. She fell once or twice, but she would leap up, and keep running. She came to the edge of the lake, almost diving in in her haste to get water. She slowed down just enough to rinse out the lid less bottle, dumping out the last of the sand into the lake. She filled it to brimming, turning and running as fast as she could through the forest again. Above the cave, on the top of the cliff in which the cave was carved, stood the figure who had punished the monster. He glared down with his ancient eyes, watching for the woman’s return. She was his meat, his pay out after all the hard work his little hunter had gone to. He had no weapon, but he waited patiently just the same, keeping an eye out for the monster, as well. He had disappeared, and he didn’t know where he had gone; he hoped, fervently, his heart aching like that of a worried parent, that his little hunter wasn’t hurt. He withdrew a little, hiding behind a tall tree as the woman appeared suddenly, racing back to her friend in the cavern. As she dissapeared inside, the old, bent man returned to his place, directly above the cave, his shadow falling behind him. Achingly, he slid down, using his walking stick to support him as he sat down to wait for the monster. Danielle ran inside, her heart pounding with fear. She stopped for a moment, the precious water clutched to her chest, tears running down her face. Her hands shook hard, and she took a sip of water to steady herself. Then, she turned quickly towards Jack­ and 145 Summertime stopped short. In one hand, he held the bottle of pills, wide open. In the other, he held the lid. He was face down in the cedar boughs, his breathing laboured. “JACK!” she screamed, throwing herself down beside him. His body jerked in surprise, the sound reverberating through his conciousness like an echo. “What the hell are you doing?” she yanked the bottle and lid from his hands, forgetting to be gentle to his back. He screamed in agony as her hair brushed along his bare back, the tickle becoming a hot, branding iron burn, his vision swimming in and out. Danielle jumped, her heart rising into her throat. She sobbed, her apology wrenching up from her heart, tearing itself to shreds on her teeth. She stammered, sobbing. She didn’t know where to touch him where it would not cause him pain. His head fell back on the cedar boughs, his heart skipping beats. “I only took four.” He mumbled, his voice filled with pain and torture. Hearing the tone in his voice, Danielle’s chin dropped down to her chest. She covered her face, and simply sobbed. Above them, the old man heard all. An expression of compassion on his face, he listened sadly to the torture of the young man below. Suddenly, far below, the monster appeared, striding angrily through the trees, his fists clenched tight at his sides. “Douglas,” the old man whispered, his voice as quiet as the rustling of dry leaves. The monster heard, spinning around to find the source of his owner’s voice. The old man waved him over, and the monster broke into a lumbering run, making his way up the hill behind the old man to stand beside him at the top of the cliff. He stood before him, panting. The old man assessed his son, circling to see him from every angle. He had bruises, it was plain­ they ran up his arms, and he had two black eyes. One of his tusks 146 Summertime was chipped, and the old man touched it gingerly. The monster jerked his head back, the stinging pain sounding suddenly in his mind. He whimpered, wiping tears from his eyes. “it will be alright, Douglas.” The old man cooed, rubbing the monster’s arm affectionately. “you have done such a good job.” The monster sniffed, keeping his head down. He knew, that in the old man’s right pocket, was the torture of the black box. He let the old man touch him, afraid to jerk away from his touch. “You must be so tired,” the old man rubbed his arms, looking on him like a proud parent. “look, Douglas.” He pulled the monster to the cliffs edge, pointing down towards the cave. The monster dipped his head, looking with confusion down the cliff. He caught the scent of the injured man, and he squealed, suddenly and loudly, shattering the peace of the forest. The old man jumped, dragging him back. He stretched his hand into his pocket, pounding the button on the black box. The monster’s squeal cut off suddenly, his body jerking with pain. He leant against a tree, staring at his master with wide eyes. Inside the cave, Danielle heard the monster’s triumphant cry. She scrambled away from the opening, her back pressed against the solid rock as far away from the door as she could get. Jack trembled, feeling death breathing down his neck. Danielle sobbed silently, praying the monster would not find them­ at least not until Jack could run, not until he had had rest. She prayed silently, her head bowed to touch her raised knees. Jack raised his body up agonisingly, forcing himself onto his side. He drank from the bottle deeply, the moisture running through his fevered body. He gagged, almost losing it in the sand­ but he forced himself to keep it down. The motion of the gag sent pain once more reeling along his body, but he ignored it, determined to drink. He drank a little more, 147 Summertime forcing himself to hold it down. He left the bottle for Danielle then, letting himself rest once again on the cedar boughs. He sank slowly into sleep, listening sharply to Danielle’s muffled cries of terror, listening sharply for the heavy footsteps of their impending death. Above them, the old man stood on the cliff edge, staring eagerly down at the opening. He waited, but noone appeared­ and eventually, he turned back to the monster, who still stood, trembling like a naughty child, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Douglas,” he said, and the monster flinched, rushing forward to him with outstretched hands. He held the monster’s hands, smiling at him reassuringly. The monster stared down at the old man’s feet, afraid to look him in the eye. “They need a rest, Douglas.” He said softly, keeping his voice low. The monster’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “You let them, rest, and rest yourself.” The old man said soothingly, his voice as slick as a puddle of spilled grease. “And when they come out, you herd them home.” He said softly, rubbing the monster’s arm again. The monster nodded fervently, wishing he had the ability to speak. “I will head home, and start your dinner, my good boy.” The old man said lovingly, marching past the monster. He disappeared between the trees, leaving no trace of his presence. The monster stayed frozen where he was, staring after him with wide eyes until he was sure the old man was gone. Then, he finally took a deep breath again, crossing his arms over his chest. Pains shot through his heart, the result of the shocks. He cried quietly, tears running down his face, falling to the forest floor. *** 148 Summertime Danielle stayed where she was, afraid to move towards the opening and escape, even more afraid to leave Jack. He slept like he was dead, and she would have thought he was except for the patient, constant motion of the cedar bough by his nose and mouth. Hours passed, and the shadows outside grew longer and longer, eventually merging into one giant shadow, the oncoming of night. She drank a little water, and took two pills for her pounding head, but she dared not leave, even to find food. Occasionally Jack would lift his head, and she would help him pour a little water into his mouth, before he let his head fall heavily back to the cedar boughs, exhausted by even this. But as time passed, she noticed that his skin was not so hot. His breathing came easier. His eyes stopped running, and he stopped yawning periodically. Eventually, he even opened his eyes, looking up at her, actually aware that she was there. At this, she sobbed, relieved. “Don’t scare me like that.’ She told him tremulously, watching as he rose himself up onto his knees. He cracked his neck, marveling at the effect sleep had had. “I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it. His body still wracked with pain­ every movement cut like a knife, hissed and screamed like someone burned at the stake. He took two more pills, gulping them down with water. Danielle pulled the flashlight out of her waistband, clinging to it in the growing dark. After a while, Jack looked at her, barely able to see her in the black of the night, and held out his hand. They got up together, silence ruling. They dared not make a sound as they crept to the mouth of the cave, peering out at the dark. 149 Summertime Not far away, the monster lurked behind a tree, watching them intently. He waited, his eyes the only ones useful in the pitch black, moonless night. Together, they softly crept out, picking their way blindly along the cliff. They waited until they got to the edge of the cliff, feeling their way up the rocks that made the border to getting up the hill to the top. As they began to climb, Danielle turned the flashlight on. The monster crept up behind them, carrying the pickaxe in his left hand. He waited until they were halfway up, following about ten feet behind them, silent, unnoticed. As they came to the easier, less steep part of the hill, he sucked in a huge breath of air, and let out one long, horrible, bone chilling, murderous squeal, sending the two friends spinning around in panic. Danielle shone the flashlight in his face, and he bared his teeth, leaping towards them, blinded by the light. Danielle kicked him in the knee as hard as she could, disabling him for a moment. She grabbed Jack, dragging him up the hill behind her. The monster chased them, limping now, slowed down. They crested the hill, running desperately into the trees. Jack fell suddenly, dragging Danielle down with him, scraping her face open on a tree. Irrational, blind with terror, Danielle dragged him painfully behind a large tree, pressing her back against it. Jack let go of her hand, dizzy and nauseous with pain. He clung to the branches of the tree to keep himself upright, his eyes sliding closed once more. Danielle listened carefully, hearing nothing. She shone the flashlight around the side of the tree, looking back the way they had come. “I think it fell down the hill,” she said softly, barely believing their luck. She turned to Jack, reaching out to find his hand in the dark, shining the flashlight up and around to see around him in the dark of the forest. But as she did, there was a sudden scuffle sound behind him, and before she could 150 Summertime warn Jack, the pickaxe the monster had been chasing them with came point down into the top of Jack’s head, splitting his skull open, revealing his brain, crushed and scrambled, running down his neck, onto his collar. Danielle choked and gagged, backing up against the tree in horror. In the beam of the flashlight, Jack’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Suddenly, a bubble popped out of it, and blood spilled down his chin, soaking his shirt. He stumbled forward, reaching out to Danielle for help, his brain sloshing forward. He fell to his knees, the pickaxe’s handle smacking against the maple sapling beside him, making a sound like a beaver’s tail; THWACK. The sound jerked Danielle out of her frozen horror. She screamed, and ran, running blindly into the next tree as she did. She corrected herself, diving around it and hurtling off into the dark, the flashlight’s beam betraying her position. Jack fell forward onto his face in the soft moss and leaves, still oozing into the surrounding mud. The creature growled, inserting a finger into the puddle of blood running down the back of Jack’s neck. It lifted the blood to its mouth, licking it off­ the poison evident in his blood. He gagged at the taste. Just one more victim now. With a screech, it took off after Danielle. Her heart pounded as fast as her feet against the moist moss floor. It silenced her step, as well as the creatures. Unable to hear the creature coming, its sudden breath on the back of her neck caught her off­guard. She dove, trying to avoid it, but it was just too close. It screamed as it grabbed her around the throat, her air cut off so suddenly, her lungs seemed to bounce in her chest as her body jerked to a full stop. Something cracked in her spine as her arms and leg flew forward. The flashlight she had held in her hand flew away, its beam sweeping over the area, briefly illuminating a small opening in the face of the mountain. Gasping for air, she 151 Summertime punched blindly over her shoulder, Suddenly connecting with the creature’s clammy face. It screamed again, releasing her and clapping its hands over its face, moaning long and low in pain. She dove for the opening, throwing herself in and running full tilt into the mountain, hoping for someplace to hide. She could hear the creature running after her, banging against the sides of the narrow cave. As she dodged around a corner, sudden light blinded her. She was in a large, stone room, a low kitchen table on one side, scientific instruments strewn about. A large, soft rug covered the stone floor. One side of the room was whitewashed, but the other side was left raw­ as if, she thought, they couldn’t be bothered with the other half. A long, low shelf ran along the wall nearest. Across the room, closer to the table, were a few old, moth eaten sets of curtains hanging on the wall. But most of all, what she saw was books­ books on the tables, books lined neatly and stacked hastily on chairs, toppled onto the floor, covering the sofa. She froze, blinking stupidly at the old man who rose stiffly from his seat by the large, carved­ out fireplace. He smiled at her, the picture of decorum. “Welcome to our home,” he said, in a low, gravelly voice, and then something came crashing down on her head. She fell forward, and the world swam into blackness. The old man smiled at the creature, pride shining on his face. “Good work,” he said, sitting back into his comfortable chair. The creature practically purred, unaccustomed to praise. “Now, put her away.” the old man said, putting his feet up on his stool. *** 152 Summertime Danielle was cold. This much she knew for sure­ in between the blackness and the light, she was freezing. She knew it was wrong...... she shouldn’t be cold, it was the middle of summer. It never got cold in summer... unless she was in her basement in the middle of the night. She raised her hand, felt her head. Opened her eyes. Pulling her hand away, she saw there was blood on her fingers. Her scalp must have ripped open again. She pressed her hand on the wound, feeling it carefully. It was ripped open again, for sure­ blood seeping through her hair, clotting on the collar of the plaid shirt she had taken from the hunting shed. She wished she was back there now. The watch was gone as well, a mark on her wrist where it had been ripped off in the monster’s haste. This place was different... the floor was made of rock, the walls too... she felt up the wall beside her, searching for something.... but she didn’t know what. A light switch? She laid her head down on her hands for a moment. She felt so very sick... and then suddenly, it all came back to her. Andre, screaming... and Alice, the monster's tusks sticking out through her neck­ blood running down her shoulder, dripping off the ends of her fingers to the forest floor.... and then Jack, her last friend, holding his hands out to her for help even as his life ran away down his neck. Dim light came from somewhere beyond her feet. She was leaning against the wall, in a dark, dank place and there was a dripping sound close by. She turned her head, looking for the source of the drip. It hurt to turn her head, it made her temples pound. Finally, on the floor, she saw there was a dark pool of liquid, slowly getting bigger and 153 Summertime bigger, a drop at a time. Confused, she raised her eyes, looking for the source. Jack hung there, his head drooped to the side, his mouth still hanging stupidly open. Danielle screamed, crawling backwards, pressing her back against the wall. Her eyes travelling down the corpse of her friend, she could see he had been gutted. A large bucket full of his insides rested against the opposite wall. Wordless with horror, she slowly got to her feet. His feet were gone, his blood dripping out through his ankles. She could see his toes sticking up out of the gut bucket. She turned to vomit against the stone wall. But as she turned, she caught sight of Alice, hung in a similar way, gutted with her toes sticking out of the bucket, her decapitated head tied by her hair to her wrist. The sharp silver hook stuck up out of her neck, coated with blood and tissue. Her stomach shaking, she looked farther. Behind her, missing his arms and legs, hung what remained of Andre. His brain fluid flowed freely from the holes where his eyes used to be. His tongue stuck slightly out of his mouth, dry and useless against his dead lips. His ribs still stuck out at odd places, but the reason for his death was obvious­ his throat had been cut, violently­ the wound extending from ear to ear. Her mind screaming, Danielle finally saw, behind Andre, a small red door, almost circular, fitted into the rock. Looking up, she saw one long, curved, sharp hook left empty hanging from the ceiling. Gagging on the vomit that threatened to come out at any second, She ran down the length of the butchering room, pressed against the wall to avoid the corpses. She wrenched the door open, and fell through it­ into the arms of the creature. She gasped, jerking away from it, her stomach sinking like a stone. It grabbed her by the arms, growling softly. She panted from terror, staring it in the face for the first 154 Summertime time. Its forehead jutted forward over its eyes, making them look small and beady, set back in its head. Its nose seemed flattened, the nostrils almost nonexistent except for slits directly above its mouth. Large teeth jutted up out of its jaw, extending almost entirely up its face to directly below each eye. Its lips didn’t seem to close, so that it always hissed as it breathed. The look in its eye caught her off guard­ compassion? Remorse? But the look hardened as she stared, and suddenly she found herself flung backward into the room, hitting Andre and rolling onto the floor, screaming and smacking at herself as if covered by bugs. The door slammed shut, and she was alone again with just the sound of the creaky hook as Andre swung slowly back and forth. “Let me out!” she screamed, flying back against the door, finding it locked. “PLEASE!” she screamed, pounding against the door with her fists. “LET ME OUT! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!” Danielle crumpled against the door, crying so hard she shook the door in its frame. Suddenly, the contents of her stomach forced their way out and she spun around, vomiting in the bucket that contained most of Andre. On the other side of the door, the creature leaned against the wood, his ear pressed to it, listening. He seemed to be working something over in his mind. Eventually, he left the door, sitting down in his chair by his small fireplace that kept his tiny room warm. Just an arm’s length away, the cold stone wall dripped moisture onto his books, kept in crates against said wall. Across the room from him, on the left side of the small red door, lay his bed­ a straw tick, covered in neatly bleached sheets, with hospital corners. Beside this there was his bedside table, a thick volume of Shakespeare balanced on top of an old digital alarm clock, run by Batteries. The dial clearly read­ 11:20 PM. 155 Summertime He picked up his copy of “wind in the willows” and began to read. Danielle, cried out, leaned against the warm door, shivering in the dim room. Moments seemed to pass in hours, with the creaking of the shining hook whispering into every corner of her mind. Her stomach ached, her throat seared by stomach acid. Eventually, unable to sit still any longer, she crept quietly away from the door, feeling around the floor of the room. She was thinking that there must be a weapon somewhere here, something she could use..... suddenly, her hand connected with something. She grabbed it and, lifting it into the dim light from the cracks around the small door, found it was a metal file­ probably used to sharpen the hooks. Inspiration striking, she leapt to her feet, raising her hands to grab the empty hook that hung, sharp and gleaming in the dim light and.... dropped the file. It fell to the floor with a crash, and the creature dropped his book, lurching towards the door, jerking it open. She crumbled to the floor before he got it open more than halfway, pretending to cower in the corner of the room. She stayed there, shivering from the cold as he stared in at her. His eyes missed nothing, and he walked in his jerky way across the room and grabbed the file from its spot on the floor. Glaring at her, staring her down, he marched out the door again. As the door swung shut, she leapt up again and silently, carefully, grabbed the hook from its bracket set in the ceiling, and in the same fluid motion rushed to a hiding place to the right of the door, pressed against the wall. She held the hook at an awkward angle, ready to swing it up at someone as soon as they came in the door. Ready to defend herself. The creature left his small rooms, entering into the bigger room Danielle had seen earlier. The old man sat at a table, fiddling with something in a petri dish. 156 Summertime “Douglas,” he said, without looking up, “put more wood on the fire.” The creature, Douglas, jerked over to the pile of wood and dumped two large pieces onto the glowing coals. He sat down quickly in a chair, the file tucked into his boot. He didn’t look at the old man, just sat. The old man didn’t look at him, just fiddled away with the glutinous substance in the petri dish as the old clock against the wall struck 12 AM. There were pictures on the mantle. One a close up of a small round jar, a small speck floating around in liquid. The next was of a baby inside a larger jar­ but it was mutated, or that’s what it looked like. Its hands had stubby fingers, and almost no thumb. The next picture was of the baby, this time showing its face. Its nose was flat, with almost no nostrils, except for slits directly above its mouth. Douglas rose from his seat, and jerkily crossed the room to sit by his father. “It’s almost time for dinner, Douglas.” the old man said, using a syringe to suck something up out of the dish. He turned, and deftly injected the substance into another petri dish. Whatever was in this dish was round, pink and opaque. The two substances mingled together. Douglas sniffed at the dish, making small grunting noises in the back of his throat. “Make sure our guest gets some.” The old man put the petri dish carefully up on a shelf, under a glass cover, and walked around the creature into the kitchen. Douglas stayed there, his ears pricked up for the sound of his father’s return. Hearing nothing, he carefully took the petri dish down from the shelf, examining the contents. The round opaque thing seemed to be alive. His father’s hand suddenly shot over his shoulder, seizing the dish. Douglas squealed, spinning and backing up against the wall. “How dare you.” the old man thundered. “After all I have done for you, you would tamper with my experiments­” Douglas shook his head, raising 157 Summertime his hands to cover his face. The old man seized a small black box that sat on the long rectangular table that dominated the room. He pressed a button, delivering an electric shock to the creature through the thick black collar it wore. Douglas’ body jerked, his legs giving out from under him. He collapsed onto the floor, twitching and squealing in pain. Leaving him there, the old man returned to the kitchen, coming back with two plates of food. There was roasted meat, with potatoes and vegetables with gravy. He left them on the table, glaring at the Pig man in the corner. Douglas stared back at him, his beady eyes open wide. “Like I said,” the old man sneered, turning towards the door. “Make sure our guest gets some.” He left quickly, shuffling through the tunnel Danielle had come through earlier that night. Douglas got up and scuttled over to the opening, listening carefully. Only when he could no longer hear his father’s shuffling footsteps did he dare to return to the table, sniffling at the food on the plates. He went back to his rooms, pressing his ear against the small red door. On the other side, Danielle was waiting. In the silence of the dim room, it was hard to tell if someone was coming or not­ until, suddenly, the door swung open. As prepared as she was, she suddenly froze in fear. The creature hunched through the doorway, looking immediately to the last spot he had seen her. Seeing she was gone, he turned quickly to look behind him. He saw her there, crouched beside the door, the long metal hook held in her hands. They stared at eachother for a moment, and then she dropped the hook and ran through the door. She spun around as soon as she was through, trying to pull the door shut behind her, but as she turned, he caught her around the waist. She screamed, punching him in the face, but it only made him tighten his grip as he picked her easily up off her feet, and carried her against her 158 Summertime will into the larger rooms. He put her down by the table, moving to get her a chair. She whirled towards the tunnel, but he grabbed her by the back of the hair, throwing her down into the chair and holding her down by the shoulders, standing behind her. Carefully taking his hand off her left shoulder, tightening his grip on the right, he reached across the table and dragged one of the plates towards her. She looked down at the plate, and her stomach flipped over­ because there, on the crackling on top of the piece of roasted meat, was the small rose tattoo that had once been on Andre’s thigh. She turned away from the table quickly, Douglas letting go of her shoulders in surprise. She dropped onto the floor, throwing up what was left in her stomach onto the carpet. “Don’t you eat meat?” the old man shuffled back into the room, carrying a basket of some kind of fungus. Danielle looked up at him, her eyes wide with terror. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded, still gagging even on her words. The old man smiled, looking at Douglas. “Get the young lady back into her chair.” he said calmly. Afraid of the black box, the creature reacted immediately, grabbing her by the shoulders and hauling her up into the chair. She allowed him to do this, gripping the edges of the seat tightly. ‘my name, for the record, is Arseny.” He said calmly, the hint of a foreign accent in his haughty voice. “and you, of course, are Danielle.” He said slickly. She stared at the old man defiantly, questions pouring out of her mind. “Why did you send this thing after me and my friends?” she demanded. Douglas flinched at the word “thing.” Danielle carried on, oblivious. “What IS it, anyways? A monster?” the old man laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” he snickered, crossing the room and dropping some of the fungus out of the basket into a certain barrel that lined the wall. “He’s my creation, my son.” he said lovingly, looking on the creature 159 Summertime with something close to approval. Danielle gagged, revulsion like bile in her throat. “So what kind of ugly bitch did you have to screw to produce this hideous thing?” she demanded, past caring. The monster squealed, grabbing her around the throat. It choked her, squealing and screaming constantly. Suddenly, the monster let go. Danielle gasped, leaping up out of her chair and spinning around. The monster lay on the ground, convulsing. Danielle’s throat ached and burned, and it made it hard to focus on what was happening. A high pitched buzz emanated from the collar it wore around its neck, now apparent without the coat it had worn when it had been chasing them. It stopped suddenly, moaning long and low. It looked so pathetic, Danielle almost felt sorry for it. “I created Douglas through a scientific process, mixing my own DNA with that of a pig.” The old man pulled a chair up, sitting down near her. “It was all very sanitary, I assure you.” Danielle stared at him, nonplussed. “My son has the intellect of any other human being, with the senses of a pig­ you know, the smell, the sight, the hearing.” He began to sort through the fungi, holding the basket in his lap. “Here, Douglas.” He said firmly, holding one particularly dirty one out to his son, who still lay, trembling on the floor. Douglas got up shakily, reaching out and taking the fungis gently from his father’s hand. He put it in his pocket, avoiding having to look at Danielle as she stared at him, confusion on her face. The old man was hurting him­ why didn’t he run away? Kill the old man? He was strong enough. But here he was, following orders and wearing a shock collar, taking treats like a big, violent, intelligent dog. “He has 44 teeth, useful for ripping and tearing, and digging, if he needs it.” The old man returned to his work, separating the fungi’s into two piles. “He finds the most 160 Summertime wonderful truffles, as well.” The old man held a small, round, dirty object up for her to see, dropping it back into the basket. “Most commonly around the roots of Hazelnut trees.” He stopped what he was doing, smiling up at Danielle. “That’s how we got onto your scent, by the way.” Danielle’s mouth snapped open, questions flooding her mind­ but she snapped it shut again as quickly. “If you hadn’t driven that boat right up into that hazelnut thicket, we probably wouldn’t have known you were even here, on this side of the forest.” Danielle stared, her heart sinking. If they had crashed anywhere else, none of this would have happened. “What are you going to do with my friends?” she asked quietly, dreading the answer. The old man blinked at her, surprised by the question. “Well, eat them of course. Except for the infected one­ he, of course, is tainted.” he answered calmly, his face a serene mask. “Don’t you know, my dear, that the meat of man is a delicacy, comparable to the sweetness of pork?” She gagged, nothing left to throw up. The old man watched her, enjoying her reaction. “You, though, my dear are just too thin for butchering.” At this, he reached out, poking her harshly in the side. His finger met her ribs, making her jump back sharply. He smiled at her, condescension plain on his face. “The bacon wouldn’t be very thick. Therefore, eat up.” he pushed the plate of food towards her. “I want to get you fattened up before the snow flies, my dear.” He smiled, watching pure terror slowly fill Danielle’s eyes. “It would be no good to try and age your meat once the temperatures drop­ and what a waste it would be, after all of my son’s hard work.” Danielle slid gently off her chair, collapsing to the floor. “And don’t worry about anyone being upset about the state of the hunting shed, by the way.” He said, leaning down to try and see her eyes. She turned her head away, closing them tightly. 161 Summertime “They shot at Douglas a few months ago, and I was, of course, forced to defend my child.” Danielle bit her lip, barely able to keep from shaking. She held it in, determined not to let him see her weakness. The old man smiled serenely, leaving them alone again in the room. The creature watched her carefully, his forehead furrowed in what appeared to be thought. He knelt down gently beside her, watching her as she burst into tears, covering her face and cowering away from him. Her whole body felt like a limp noodle­ drained, exhausted. Memories flashed through her mind­ Andre, looking back at her as he screamed from the pain of his ribs and arm as the monster ran ahead of her, bouncing Andre on his shoulder. Alice, her screams turning from terror to bubbling howls and choking shrieks of pain as the monster bit and tore her head away from her body. And Jack, reaching out to her for help, crumpling to the forest floor as his eyes went blank, his soul leaving silently. She looked up at the Monster, her face contorting into rage. “Just kill me!” she screamed, raising herself onto her knees. She began to punch the creature in the head, screaming “kill me! Just kill me!” the punches did nothing to the creature­ he just sat there, looking at her, thinking and blinking periodically as her fists struck his face. Eventually, she collapsed again, another round of tears coming. Her wish for death ruled absolutely. Suddenly, the creature grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her to her feet. She screamed again, recoiling from the monster’s clammy hands. He clapped his hand over her mouth, listening carefully to the tunnel that led to the front entrance of the 162 Summertime cave. He could hear nothing­ there was no sound of breath, no sound of footsteps. His father was nowhere near the cave. Danielle whimpered, trying to pull away from the monster that held her, her tears overflowing and running down his hand. Douglas began to drag her along with him, to the back of the cave. He pulled back a curtain, revealing another tunnel that seemed to lead deep into the mountain. Creeping cold rushed along Danielle’s skin as he pushed her towards the opening. He pushed her into the tunnel ahead of him, closing the curtain behind himself. When the curtain was closed, the tunnel was saturated with thick, cloying darkness, and Danielle had no choice but to stick with the creature, the only one who could see the way in the darkness of the mountain. They walked and walked into the mountain, Douglas keeping his hand firmly on her shoulder, turning her gently as the tunnel turned, catching her when she fell once, tripping over a long, thin object that rattled like driftwood against the stone floor. They walked for what seemed to Danielle to be hours­ until, suddenly, there was a dim light ahead. She focused on it, still unable to walk on her own in the darkness. The creature steered her towards it, and suddenly she realized they were passing other openings in the tunnel. She tried to look down the break offs, but only a few feet in the tunnels would once again get as dark as the tunnel they had just left, to come down towards the light. Danielle realized that she could hear the lake­ she could feel it, too­ the ebb and flow of the water moving the rocks that made the cave. They weren’t in a mountain­ they had been under the lake. As they came into the brighter light at the end of the tunnel, she realized that she could also hear people­ she could hear children, laughing as they played­ she could hear dogs barking, mothers calling, she 163 Summertime could hear motorboats and cars and amongst it all, a sound like a radio, the sound rising and falling as if someone walked about with one­ and then, suddenly, she could hear a loud, metallic rattle high above her head. She looked up, and about 100 feet above her, set high in the ceiling, was a small, round hole­ covered by bars. She stared at it stupidly for a moment, and suddenly she realized­ it was the storm grate, the same storm grate she had seen every year she had been coming to the campground­ the storm grate that sat in a divot amongst weeds and garbage only a few feet from the entrance of her own campsite. This was a flood tunnel­ the cavern in which the creature lived used to be a mine­ to keep the water from washing everything away in the spring when the lake became swollen, violent and destructive. The water was meant to come down here, soak into the dirt tunnel floors, recycled into the water shed, staying well away from the tunnels the miners had worked in, who knows how long ago. She stared up at the opening, then down at the creature, who stood, silent, in the middle of the cavern. Beside him, gently swinging, hung a long, red rope. He pulled the rope in one hard jerk, and with a rattle, a rope ladder rolled down from the opening­ as if it belonged there, as if any of this belonged here. He held the ladder still, looking from the girl who stood, covered in mud and blood, with her clothes ripped and hanging, the skin of her knees shredded, up to the opening repeatedly­ trying to convey what he wanted. “Are you letting me go?” she whispered, her heart rising up into her throat, creating a lump there that pained as she tried to breath around it. The creature nodded, holding his hand out to her­ offering to help her up the ladder. He looked at her sadly, an apology in his eyes. She began to cry again, tears streaming down her face as she, 164 Summertime ignoring his hand, grabbed onto the ladder and began to climb as quickly as she ever had in her life. He held on tightly to the bottom of the ladder, trying to keep it steady, lest she fall. With each rung, the air became sweeter. With each rung, the higher she went, the clearer she could hear the laughter of the children who ran and played in the campground. Suddenly, she could hear the frazzled mother, yelling at her children as she ran after them­ her voice rising as falling as she passed the grate, probably not even aware of its existence. The tears stung the scratches on her cheeks, her back ached from the chase, her knees shook, threatening to give out at any moment­ but she focused on the sounds of the lake, the thrill of birdsong, and now the clear blue sky she could just make out through the grate. Far below, the creature hung on tightly, watching anxiously as she got higher and higher. He hung his own body on the bottom of the ladder, trying to keep it in place for her as she climbed­ but it was harder the further she got. Soon she had to slow down, and pick her way carefully­ no matter how much he clung to the ladder, or planted his feet­ she swung slightly in the void of space. There was a sudden sound behind him in the darkness of the tunnel. Douglas whirled around, sniffing the air anxiously. High above him, Danielle spun, screaming helplessly and clinging to the ladder. Douglas could smell it­ his father’s rage. He could hear the footsteps as they hurtled down the tunnel towards him. He looked up at the girl who clung to the ladder, staring down at him in horror. He squealed at her, wordlessly urging her to get out! She climbed again, ignoring the swinging of the rope this time. Something had the monster below scared­ and if something was so bad, she thought, she had to get away from it. She was fifteen feet away from the opening­ fifteen feet away from freedom. Just as Douglas began to think 165 Summertime she would get out, his father burst through the blackness at the end of the tunnel. He raised his hand, a metallic silver flash drawing Douglas’ attention. He screeched, releasing the ladder to lurch towards his father, to stop him, but he wasn’t fast enough. The old man shot the pistol he had in his hand, aimed directly at the girl on the ladder. The reverberating explosion deafened the creature. He clapped his hands over his ears, collapsing to the floor in agony as both eardrums popped. Danielle, almost to freedom, her hand outstretched to the blue sky she could see through the grate only inches from her fingertips, felt the bullet pass through her heart. For a second, she hung there, a precarious ornament in the twilight of the cave. Then her body let go, and she felt herself fall. She was dead by the time her body hit the cavern floor, making a sound like a cracking egg. Douglas moaned, the sound registering past the pain that reverberated in his head. Silence ruled then, broken only by the old mans harsh breathing and the whimpering of the defeated creature. He knelt on the floor, afraid to look up. He stayed there, staring at the sand that made the bottom of the cavern floor, until the old man finally spoke­ his voice thick, his breathing labored. “Pick her up.” he said, glaring at the monster that knelt, cowering on the floor. Again, silence reined. The monster shook his head. He would not move the dead girl. The old man pulled a rectangular black box out of his pocket, pressing the second button down. The monster howled, his body jerking in pain as the collar delivered a severe shock to his body. The old man removed his finger, and the pain stopped. “I said, pick her up.” again, the monster shook his head, cowering against the floor like a dog that has done something bad. The old man, a mad glint in his 166 Summertime eye, pushed the third button down. This time, the monster flipped completely over, his body seizing, his head bashing against the floor as he howled and jerked. The old man kept his finger on the button longer this time­ thirty seconds, then a full minute­ then two. Finally, he let it go. The creature clutched at his heart, moaning low and long in pain, small whimpers escaping as he tried to breath. The old man waited, patiently staring at the monster as it lay there. Finally, the monster turned over and climbed to its feet. The old man held the black box up, hovering his finger over the fourth button. The creature cowered away, shaking hard­ like a frightened, abused child. He raised his hands to the old man, pleading with him.“Pick her up.” the old man said, watching the monster carefully. Still hesitant, his head down, the creature turned and gently picked the dead girl up. “Good,” the old man smiled, putting the box back into his pocket. “Now take her back and hang her to drain. I want some proper bacon this year, even if it will be thin.” flinching at the words, the monster shuffled past the old man, disappearing into the darkness once more. The old man watched as he went, then turned and, brisk and business like, kicked sand over the red pool of blood that coloured the cavern floor where the girl had lain. *** Mr. Mason packed up, passing his wife the big blue cooler up the steps of the camper. The police were packing up, too­ the dogs being put away, the divers getting out 167 Summertime of their gear. The search had produced nothing, nothing since the boat had been found. He stood for a moment, looking sadly out over the lake, feeling horribly responsible. He hadn’t even asked if they knew how to drive a boat. He hadn’t even asked that they wear life jackets. He bent to his task again, rolling the stumps out of the way. Robbie stood, not far away, watching the search ending, his face streaked with tears. It was awful­ just awful­ that the people hadn’t been found. He had heard the police talking earlier. He knew what they thought, now­ that most of the people, at least two, had drowned in the lake when they had crashed. Maybe the others had head injuries, maybe they were hurt some other way, maybe they just didn’t know how to get back to the campground. They thought they were lost, off somewhere in the forest. He knew, that they had found a lot of blood somewhere in the forest. He wiped the tears away, his heart heavy­ wishing he hadn’t been so mean to the man with red hair. “Robbie!” he turned towards his camper, heading for the sound of his Mother’s voice with a heavy heart. He sat in the window of the camper, still watching. The police took down the people’s campgrounds, tagging and bagging everything. A tow truck made its way slowly up the gravel road, coming for the tall woman’s car. The others had hiked in­ their cars were all the way down the dirt road, at the parking lot. They broke down the red haired man’s tiny tent, pulling his pack out. They spread the contents out on the ground, coming up with what looked like an address book. Mr. Mason stopped again, holding his hand up to get the police woman’s attention. She came over, her face stern, her mouth turned down at the corners. “Are you going to be able to find their loved ones?” he asked, hoping the answer would be yes. “We think so.” she said authoritatively, nodding. “We’ve just taken down the licence plate of the 168 Summertime one woman’s vehicle, and we found an address book in one of the men’s tents. The other two left their cell phones in their tents, so in their cases it should be easy.” Mr. Mason nodded, his heart heavy. She turned back to her job, supervising the officers who packed up, everything put neatly away, categorized. Soon enough, the job was done; and one by one, the police vehicles retreated down the dirt road, heading back for civilization. The Masons followed, their dilapidated camper bouncing over each and every rut in the road. The frazzled Mother and her family followed next, all ten children strapped in­ everyone unusually silent. Behind them, the lake glimmered, idyllic and peaceful in the late summer sun. the clouds puffed, bright and fluffy, over the dark lake, sparkling in the jewel blue sky. The silence, in the absence of campers, was broken only by the twitter of birds. It was the kind of scene you would expect to see on a postcard; wild, untamed, beautiful. Glacier Lake lapped serenely, whispering to the forest as the forest stretched up, reaching for the sky. Did you enjoy the book? If so, head on over to http://www.shelfari.com/books/35899603/Summertime-a-tale-of-Horror-and-Supsense And leave a review 169 Summertime AND NOW….. The first chapter of St. Aidan’s; coming soon to a reading device near you. ST. AIDAN’S Chapter 1 The Beginning 170 Summertime The jack o lantern grinned in its place on the low garden wall, illuminated by an electric candle. The bright orange face was visible far down the road, a must when you lived so far from the town, its lights visible in the valley below. Natasha held her son’s hand tight, pulling her satin witch’s cloak tight around her. It would be cold tonight. She was glad she had put together a clown costume for Theo- her son, smiling impatiently up at her, his glow in the dark pumpkin bucket held tightly in his excited little hand. The wig would keep his ears warm, and the many layers she had used to make him look rolly polly and jolly would keep him warm for sure, even later in the night when everyone at the community kids Halloween party they planned to attend would gather outside to see the annual fireworks. Sudden wind howled around the tiny brick house, ripping at her cloak and freezing her to the bone. Her husband stood at the door, his face concealed behind a werewolf mask. Every time Theo saw it, he would squeal in fear and hide behind his mom. His voice sounded muffled behind the thick rubber mask. “what time will you be back?” he held a bowl of brightly coloured candy in his hand. She considered for a moment, only replying when Theo, pushed well beyond the patience of any 6 year old, began to tug her along, heading for the party. “around 1!” she called back, turning to see him illuminated in the porch light surrounded by the darkening sky. He waved once, stepping inside and closing the door. Natasha turned back to Theo, carrying on down the road. The surrounding forest stretched up high, closing in on them once they left the clearing in which their home stood, looking out from the cliff over the valley and the town below. “mommy, can I eat some candy now?” he asked, shaking his bucket up and down. Natasha laughed, squeezing his hand tight. “you haven’t even gotten any yet!” she said, adjusting the pin that held her cloak on. He smiled widely at her, sheepish. “I forgot,” he giggled uncontrollably, forcing Natasha to stop while he calmed down. She waited patiently, looking around the serene, sunset forest. Rich golden light soaked itself 171 Summertime down through the canopy of the century- old evergreen trees, pooling in spots on the needle and moss covered forest floor, the muddy soil beneath baked hard by the summer of hot, unforgiving sun. the scent of the summer forest fires still clung to places, would be there almost until the first snow in mid- November, around the time Americans had their thanksgiving. The sky above was darkest in the middle, venus showing through on the edge of the suspended pool of inky blue. Through the trees, still down the road a little from where she and Theo stood, Natasha could see a building. She stared at it, fiddling with the clip that held her cloak on again. It was small and silver, shaped like a face- with no eyes, a wide, gaping mouth. The building had once been a hospital, a place where people with mental problems came to live. The old sign still hung above the gate- the cracked, faded red lettering still emblazoned the building’s name across the old growth forest. ST. AIDAN’S ASYLUM FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE AND UNSTABLE. It’s plain brown, weathered front betrayed nothing of the torture that had happened inside, the windows twinkling merrily, visible from high in the air and from far across the valley on the risen mountains on the other side. Its front door had received damage- probably from one of the resident bears, and it now hung open, slanting outwards as if it would fall on any that came up to the front door. The porch was old, extended out only on the side of the building, behind the point where the once solid iron fence had stood. It had been ripped out years ago, remnants of the once majestic wrought lay strewn on the ground. a few hopeful remains of a garden still stood- the last roses immediately beside the building still displayed a few beautiful blooms each year. But they were no longer as majestic as they had once been, not without the loving care of giselda, the old Romanian patient who had cared for them in her time here. It was said that when the building had been shut down, on the last day when the nurses were loading up the other patients for transport, giselda had 172 Summertime slashed her own throat in her room with a pair of sharp scissors she had snuck out of her nurses’ pocket. The building was old, older than any resident of the town below could remember- but it had been in use until just 15 years ago. Natasha shuddered, remembering the shrieks and mournful pleas for help that would float down from the hospital into the valley below. Children, playing in the school playground, would stop what they were doing to scream back at the poor trapped souls, telling them to shut up and die already. The last few crickets of the year sang a mournful song of impending winter as she stood still, holding her now calm son’s hand and staring at the building. “Mommy, look at that!” Theo suddenly took off from her side, dropping her hand and his bucket on the road side. “Theo!” she ran after him, her heart pounding in her chest. His bright red jacket flashed along in the streaks of light that came from the almost completely set sun angled down from the horizon through the canopy of trees. The multicolored wig fell off, rolling along behind him in his wake. Natasha simply leapt over it, reaching out her hand to catch the back of his jacket- but he slipped away again, picking up speed. “Theo!” he didn’t even turn around, dodging up and into the suddenly imminent building. Natasha skidded to a stop, instinctive fear rising in her chest. What if the floor was too old? What if her baby fell through? “THEO?” she screamed into the black maw of the building’s front door, hanging stupidly open in the late autumn light. tears streaming down her face, she screamed once more into the gaping mouth of the building. Hearing nothing, she spun around, her hands pressed to her face, looking for help. The gate hung open, creaking back and forth. The empty road seemed so far away. Suddenly, from the inside of the old, Dilapidated building a voice sounded- “Mommy!” it was Theo, and he was crying. Her mind made up, Natasha threw herself into the opening, narrowly avoiding 173 Summertime the door as it fell, generating a thick cloud of dust. “Theo? Where are you, sweetie?” she narrowed her eyes to slits, trying to see in the dim light. She was in a hall, the ceiling high above her head, extending all the way up the four floors of the asylum. In front of her, there was a double winged set of stairs, rising majestically in the dim dust to the second floor, the main staircase that led from imminently at her feet to where it split off after only 7 stairs up. A faded carpet lay on the middle of the stairs, at the landing and then split as well, up the two flights of stairs to opposite ends of the second floor. A tall spiral staircase could be seen, beginning at the middle of the second floor and extending all the way up to the ceiling above the fourth floor. A tall hallway split down the asylum, leading all the way to the back of the cavernous building, split down the four levels, the spiral staircase rising beside it halfway up. On either side there were once- white wooden railings, picket fence style. Down the long, unbroken center of the tall hallway there was a long, chipped white, wooden planter with weeds growing up out of it. The ceiling was adorned with stained glass windows, letting their colored light fall on all below. It would have been beautiful, if it was maintained. Now it looked dangerous, the tall levels missing railings in places, some of the stained glass broken in by confused birds, now lay strewn, still sharp on the floor. The smell of mold prevailed, and Natasha covered her face with the edge of her cloak as she pressed on into the building. The open faced construction reminded her of a prison block- and as she moved further and further into the building, passing the foot of the stairs and carrying on towards the left, she could see that the building was separated into hundreds of plain rooms, with double bolted doors. Some still contained beds, some of the beds had been thrown to the ground from high up. There was an elevator, but it appeared to no longer work- the lights were off inside it, as they were all over the building. “Theo?” Natasha called again, her voice muffled by her cloak. Suddenly, above her, footsteps rang out. She threw her head back, staring up at the levels above. 174 Summertime Running along an open section above her, high up on the third level, was theo, his bright clown costume standing out like a beacon in the multicoloured light against the black mold that had taken over the wall. He laughed, and the sound echoed endlessly among the labyrinth of halls and rooms and dust and mold. The squealing of rats blended into it, becoming one with the child’s laughter. “Theo! Wait there! Don’t move!” Natasha whirled, running back for the foot of the staircase. She hurtled up the tall, steep stairs, forgetting to worry about rotten floors. Some of the stairs crunched like potato chips as she pounded up the stairs. She hurtled around the bend in the staircase, taking the flight that led to the left, hurrying as well she could with her cloak hampering her progress. She stopped to look up once, and Theo was on the spiral staircase, running up, looking down occasionally, all the time laughing. “Theo, it’s not safe, baby!” tears ran down Natasha’s face. She made her way through the molding second level, trying her best to ignore the ominous moans and crackles of the floor beneath her. Cockroaches and rats ran before her feet, bowling eachother over to avoid being stepped on. Things slithered to and fro around her feet, and she tried to avoid looking down. “Theo?” “come on, mommy!” his voice called down to her. “come look at how pretty it is!” his innocent voice spurred her on, and she made it up to the third floor quickly, hurtling down the hallway to the foot of the spiral staircase. Only one side had a railing, and the other side just dropped off- maybe something once had been there, but now it was gone, and Natasha clung to the remaining railing, trying to ignore how much it shifted under her weight. Her head spun, the world tipping almost completely over, the colours rippling and draining, like when someone pulled the plug in the sink. She had to stop several times to steady herself, the vertigo almost unbearable. Finally, she made it up to the fourth level, crawling thankfully onto the steadier floor. “Theo?” she called again, rising up on her knees to looks around herself. “Mommy!” he caught her attention, his back to her, looking out of the 175 Summertime window at the far end of the floor, in a long, rectangular room with a lot of beds lined up against the walls. “Theo, why did you run away from me!?” she got on her feet, running down the length of the building to meet him there. “I’m sorry, mommy.” His voice was serene in the twilight beneath the stained glass. “come and see, mommy.” Natasha ran down the building towards him, entering the long, thin room. As she entered, she past a window that faced out to the road…. and stopped short. She stood for a moment, staring at the little boy, who stood happily at the other window, looking out over the valley. Slowly, she turned her head to look out the window beside her, to see what it was that had made her stop, that had caught her attention. Down on the road, his tiny face twisted in confusion, stood her son. His pretty red jacket stood out in the near dark, his pumpkin bucket now glowing. The flower button that was in his lapel could be seen plainly now, flashing brightly in the dark- in case she lost him. She had turned it on before they left. “mommy?” he called her, a question ringing out in his voice. She turned, terror rising in her heart, back to the other little boy. He stood suddenly closer, just an arms length away. His eyes were white, as if they had rolled back into his head. He smiled at her, and his teeth were pointed and sharp, stained yellow and black. He stank of rotted flesh, and there were black spots all over his skin. “mommy,” he snarled at her, his voice coming out in a rasp. He raised his hand to take hers. Natasha screamed, throwing herself backwards into the hallway to avoid the rotting hand. She stopped, blinking hard in confusion. Inside the long room, the little boy still grinned at her amongst the scrabbling cockroaches and silverfish that crawled up out of the rotted boards of the floor. The beds were rotting away, some of the springs showing. Mold lay its velvet hand on every part of the wall but where the sun would touch the brightest. But here, just outside the door in the hallway, it was suddenly as if the asylum was still in operation. The floor gleamed with black and white tile, scrubbed to a mirror finish. The walls were painted white, and people walked 176 Summertime back and forth, holding the backs of nightgowns together and some dragging tall metal poles on wheels, various clear bags of liquid hanging off of them. Two women in robes, with hard, clacking shoes appeared around the corner at the end of the hall, dragging between them a thin, frail woman without any hair. Her eyes were surrounded with black, as if she had been beaten up, and her feet dragged behind her, despite her efforts to stand on her own. “come on, now, Sarah.” The nurse on the right said, her voice the polar opposite of her stern face. “I’m sorry.” The woman said breathlessly, letting her head loll forward. “I’m just so tired.” As they passed, Natasha stood frozen, her entire body rigid with terror. The little boy was laughing, now- his crow’s rasp echoing along the hall. Some of the patients clapped their hands over their ears, stopping to lean against the wall, howling to drown the sound out. “that’s enough!” another stern faced nurse appeared at the end of the hallway Natasha was in. she spun her head around, staring at the imposing woman- who now was looking directly at her. “back to your rooms!” she marched down the hallway toward Natasha, who began to edge her way along the hall, still pressing her back against the wall, afraid to move. The patient across the hall from her stopped howling and ran as if the devil was after him, first down the hallway, and then skidded around the corner. The nurse’s face seemed to twist, the heat of her rage melting it. “I SAID GET TO YOUR ROOM!” she stretched her clawed hand out, the nails glistening red in the light below the stained glass. Natasha screamed again, finally regaining control of her body. She ran along the hallway, throwing herself around the corner after the other patient, heading for the spiral stairs. Beside her ran the railing, and immediately over it was the drop, fourty feet to the hard tile below. All over the asylum, things ran as if the building was new. Patients screamed at her as she passed, pleading for help, their wrists and legs tied in place, the metal tables they were strapped to rattling with their efforts to get free. Some just lay 177 Summertime there, drugged beyond comprehension. All of it was startlingly clean, gleaming, slippery in places. Her feet fell out from under her just as she made it to the head of the stairs, sending her flying along, falling down 14 of the spiral stairs, cracking the wood of the bannister. Out from the crack, cockroaches and filth- bugs ran. She looked up at the head of the stairs from where she sat, her eyes wide with terror. The nurse had caught up to her, her face still twisted in that awful way. She clung to the railing, dragging herself up. “stay away from me,” she said shakily, trying to back away down the stairs without falling again. “all you need is your pill, Natasha.” The nurse said soothingly, her teeth bared. “I’m not your patient!” Natasha whimpered, slipping, forced to look behind her. She looked back, and screamed in terrorthere was the nurse, right in her face. The nurse grabbed her face, trying to force her mouth open, a pill held tightly in her other hand. Natasha fought back, slapping the nurse as hard as she could, kicking her in the knee. Nothing seemed to hurt the nurse- she carried on trying to force the unknown pill down natasha’s throat. Suddenly, the patient she had seen in the hallway appeared over the nurse’s shoulder. Howling without any words, he grabbed the nurse by the hair. She screamed, her body jerking backwards. “RUN!” the patient screamed at Natasha, holding the nurse back. “GET OUT!” Natasha turned and hurtled down the stairs, making it down to the second floor without seeing anything but her feet pounding down the immaculate tile. She could hear the nurse screaming for help, telling the others to CATCH HER! CATCH HER! She could hear, as loud as if they were beside her, the feet of the nurses as they ran to stop her. As she came to the foot of the spiral staircase, there were two male doctors there, their faces twisted, the same as the nurse. She threw her hands up into their faces, clawing at their eyes. They ducked, and she threw herself past their grabbing hands and flew along the hallway, to the staircase at the end. All around the hospital, she could hear the patients screaming- GET OUT! GET OUT! Suddenly, just ten feet away from the staircase, an 178 Summertime arm clamped down around her throat. Her screams choked off, she was dragged backwards. An empty room loomed in front of her, the metal bed unoccupied. “get in your room!” a voice hissed in her ear. She clung to the door frame, unable to breathe. In her minds eye, she saw her son, standing outside alone. How long would it be until he came into the building to look for her? She threw her body backwards twice, earning herself no purchase. Whoever held her was inhumanly strong. She put her foot up on the doorframe, pushing with all her might. The steel grip gave just a bit, and she forced her other foot up onto the doorframe, pushing even harder. Suddenly, the grip gave way and she flew backwards, and flipped over the railing. Her body fell heavily down, landing on the staircase- her leg twisted underneath her. She screamed as the bone ripped and tore, breaking in two places. It popped apart like frozen meat, grating against itself inside. She slid down to the landing now, dazed. “mommy!” looking up, Natasha saw that theo stood in the doorway. The hospital entrance was as it had been before- rotted, decaying away. The door hung open. Her son’s terrified little face hovered in the opening made by the open, hanging maw of the door. “RUN, THEO!” she screamed, lurching to her feet, her leg screaming with pain. She fell down the rest of the stairs, the bones in her leg screaming with hot pain as she went. “mama!” Theo sobbed in the doorway, tears running down his face. She dragged herself along the floor, trying to get to her son. The nurse appeared suddenly, at her feet, by the staircase. Theo screamed, his eyes snapping wide in terror, unable to understand. “RUN! THEO RUN!” Natasha screamed again, dragging herself towards the door. The nurse bent, grabbing her ankles. The patients began to scream his name all over the building, howling at the little boy. THEO RUN! THEO RUN! He turned, finally, and ran out of the door and out of the gate. Natasha sobbed, trying to kick at the nurse that held her. Suddenly, she felt the bottom half of her body leave the floor, and her feet pointed suddenly straight up in the air. She clung to a rotting pipe that stuck up out of the 179 Summertime floor, hanging on for dear life. She looked up, and screamed again. The nurse’s feet hovered, six feet off the floor, her eyes white like the child’s. she smiled a horrible smile as she dragged her up. The patient that had helped natasha before suddenly appeared in front of her. “leave her alone!” he screamed at the nurse, picking up rotting pieces of wood and throwing them at her. They just bounced off, falling to the floor. The pipe gave way with a SNAP, and Natasha flew up into the air, her screams dieing out into silence. The empty, rotting building stood once more, alone. Theo ran down the road as fast as he could towards the town, screaming for help- his flashing flower standing out in the now complete darkness. Watch out for St. Aidan’s, coming soon to a reading device near you.