House of Fallen Trees

CHAPTER NINETEEN

She didn’t quite make it though.

There was some distant noise distracting her from surfing beneath the waves of sleep, drowning in a comforting curl.

She refused to acknowledge the sound at first, stubbornly squeezing her eyes shut as if the act would somehow squeeze her ears shut as well.

Bizarre rustling sounds, as though someone — or something her deep mind screamed from some distant and undiscovered planet — were kicking their way through deep drifts of dead leaves. Crackling, snapping noises, but she would not give in to her curiosity. Her exhaustion was too heavy a burden and needed to be taken care of first. After her nap, she would look. She would open her eyes and see what the strange sounds were all about. She buried her face into the crook of her elbow, feeling her own warmth there…and darkness. So sweetly dark and warm…

But then another noise attacked her with such ferocity she jerked up, eyes wide.

The ground beneath her body was cold — nearly frozen — and the trees were almost upon her, crowding in close, some of them mere inches from her body. Five trees in all, surrounding her as though they were the fat bars of a very small cage. Beyond them, Dusty the dog barked shrilly at her…or at them, Karen couldn’t tell which. She saw the dog clearly, about twenty feet away and not daring to come any closer.

The trees were…were what? Alive? Of course they were. All trees are alive. But these trees, she thought…they’re malevolent. Evil. And alive in a way no other trees were.

She was somewhat grateful for her dulled senses now. She was sure if she had had all her wits about her, she would have run screaming into the descending night to disappear forever. Besides the grogginess, the only thing keeping her relatively calm was the dog. The dog was real. It saw what she saw and sensed what she sensed.

Something more than just evil. Something ancient and sleepy, but waking up and waking up hungry.

Slowly, Karen first sat, then stood, ignoring the dead leaves and pine needles in her hair, the dirt covering the side of her body that had lain against the cold ground. Some instinct was telling her to move slowly, slip past the trees surrounding her. Step carefully, do not touch them, do not step on any exposed roots. Do not wake them further.

Insanity, she thought. It’s the only explanation.

The dog continued to bark, apparently unaware her protests could cause the trees to become more aware of the presence of “outsiders”, which is what Karen assumed she was to whatever entity ruled these woods.

She stared hard at the dog, trying to will her to silence, but Dusty only took a step back and barked louder, more urgently.

Karen judged the distance between the trees directly in front of her. The space between them was wide enough for her to fit through, but barely. She took a deep breath, held it and slipped between them like a soaped up convict escaping naked from between the bars of his prison cell.

Once she was on the other side of the tree cage, she bolted through the forest as fast as she could, racing past the dog who spun, startled, barking hysterically before breaking into its own run, keeping pace with Karen for a moment before darting ahead, a reddish blur in the faltering light. Follow the dog, Karen told herself. Follow her, she knows the way.

Dusty easily leapt over and around low shrubs, logs and rocks, weaving her way around trees Karen was positive had not been there when she’d first ventured into the woods.

Stupid, she thought, breathing hard, legs and arms pumping, praying she wouldn’t fall. If she fell, she knew it would be over. There were things moving behind her; she could sense them. Behind her and to either side as well.

Karen ran, sometimes with only a flash of the dog’s bushy tail to lead the way.

There was movement above her now, flashes of shadows crossing the ground just before her feet pounded down on it, dark figures moving up there, but she didn’t dare look up, didn’t take her eyes off the fleeing dog for more than just fear of tripping. For fear of seeing.

And then they broke through, coming out of the edge of the woods slightly north of where she’d gone in.

Dusty skidded to a stop just short of the walkway, whirled and barked at Karen as if urging her forward, warning her she wasn’t quite clear yet, just a little further, and Karen, eyes on the dog, forgot her balance just long enough for the toes of her left foot to catch something and the next thing she knew, she was sailing though the air, perpendicular to the ground for what seemed like a long, long time and then crashing down hard, knees and elbows colliding with the ground a mere instant before her chin hit. Her teeth clacked together hard as her back was bent into a U shape — impossible, she thought through the intense and immediate pain — backs are not supposed to do this. She groaned in pain, tasting dirt in her mouth, but thankfully, no blood and she hadn’t heard anything snap. She did however hear a distinct shuffling sound near her face and when she looked up, Dusty was there, sniffing cautiously.

“I think I’m okay,” she told the dog, rolling onto her back with a grimace. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.” Trying to move made her lower back shriek with rage. “Fuck!” she hissed and instantly regretted it as it caused the dog to fall back a little ways. Breathing hard, Karen turned her head to look at Dusty. “Don’t like cussing, huh? I don’t blame you. It’s a terrible habit.”

She knew she must be in some kind of shock — knew it because she wasn’t leaping to her feet and taking off again, screaming bloody murder that the woods were alive and trying to eat her. Which, she was convinced, was exactly what had happened.

Karen raised her hand to the dog. “I think we’ve already proven that you’re a faster runner than I am,” she said. “If I try anything iffy you can always take off like a bolt of lightning.”

The dog tilted her head to one side and Karen had the impression Dusty was truly trying to understand what was being said to her, listening carefully for even a single word she might recognize.

“It’s okay,” Karen said reassuringly. “I promise.”

Dusty came forward only as far as she needed to, stretching out her neck until her cold damp nose touched the tips of Karen’s fingers, sniffing intently.

Karen couldn’t help but smile. “Good girl,” she said and meant it, suddenly realizing the dog had almost certainly saved her, leading the way to safety. Well, as safe as she could be, she supposed.

“I think we’re gonna be friends after all,” Karen said. “I’m not so bad. You’ll see.”

The dog seemed to consider this for a moment, wet brown eyes watching Karen with what she hoped was now more interest than fear. “You’re a good girl,” Karen said before taking in a gulp of brisk November air and forcing herself to sit up, wincing at the pain in her lower back. She realized it wasn’t only her back that hurt now. It felt like every part of her had been hit repeatedly with a hammer. Even her eyes were sore. “This place is kicking my ass,” she muttered.

“Karen?”

It was Saul, rounding the near side of the house.

At the sound of his voice, Dusty began to bark frantically but surprised Karen by not running away. Instead, she took a step closer to Karen, as if to protect her from the approaching man.

Karen held up her hand to Saul, giving him a STOP gesture. He froze, his eyes on the dog.

With a slow tentative hand, Karen reached out and touched the dog’s flank. Dusty barely looked around, still barking at Saul.

“It’s alright,” Karen told the animal, stroking her matted fur. “He’s a friend.”

Dusty remained unconvinced, but the barking slowed down and soon stopped when she saw Saul was coming no closer.

“Wow,” Saul said, clearly amazed Karen was being permitted to touch the stray. “First time I’ve seen that.” He watched a moment longer before the general oddness of the situation dawned on him. He seemed to realize the state Karen was in and asked, “What happened?”

She was unsure of how to respond, knowing the truth would never be believed. “I got a little lost in the woods,” she said finally.

He frowned. “Why did you go in there?”

Karen nodded at Dusty. “I went after her.”

“And you caught her?” Saul was clearly amazed at this turn of events.

“Not exactly, but she did show me the way out again.”

“Cool,” he nodded. “I told you she was a smart one.”

Smarter than you think, Karen said to herself. Surviving in these possessed woods for so long on her own. She asked, “You guys find an open window?”

“No.” He forgot himself, probably thinking it was awkward to have a conversation with someone who stood about thirty feet away from him, and took a step forward. Immediately, Dusty began barking again and Saul stopped, holding up his hands in surrender. “Sorry,” he said loudly over the din. “I’m not moving.”

Karen smiled a little at this and when Dusty finally stopped barking, said, “We girls have to stick together.”

Chuckling, Saul said, “I guess so. But anyway, no, we didn’t find an open window, which was weird because, according to Rory, nothing was locked.”

She made a face, her hand still moving methodically over the dog. “What does that mean, nothing was locked?”

“Just what I said. Up until a week or so ago, Rory was keeping all the windows open to air out the place. The smell of must and mold in there was nauseating. But when it started getting cold, he just closed the windows without locking them.”

“That seems kind of dangerous,” she said. “Anyone could have come in.” The thought excited her for a moment, thinking they’d discovered how someone could have entered the house and remained hidden, coming out only to toy with them when they were otherwise occupied. Then she remembered the forest, the trees that had moved to block her path and surround her like a pack of predators circling their prey.

“Nah,” Saul said. “No one comes out here, which I guess is why he thought leaving everything open in the first place would be okay.”

“What about animals? He could have come back to find a family of raccoons had taken up residence.”

Saul shrugged. “Either that didn’t enter his mind or he didn’t think it would happen. And it didn’t. The point is, everything was unlocked when we all came out here and then, seconds later, the entire house was locked. From the inside.”

The thought gave Karen a chill. “How could that be?”

“He thinks what you were saying before might be true now. That there really is someone in the house.”

She shivered, despite not quite believing in that theory herself any more. Moving as slowly as she could without alarming the dog, she stood up, brushing herself off. Various parts of her body shrieked their protest but she just couldn’t sit on the ground any more. She could only look at Saul, uncertain of how to respond. “What do you think?” she asked at last.

Running a hand through his thick dark hair, he said, “I don’t know what to think. Maybe he locked everything up and just forgot.”

“And the front door just bolted itself behind us?”

He shook his head, obviously frustrated. “Beats the shit out of me.” He gave the stubble on his cheek a quick rub before adding, “But I can’t think of another explanation.”

“Another explanation besides the one that the door did it itself?”

“Oh, I don’t think the door did it, exactly.”

“No? Then what?”

Saul shuffled his feet like a little boy being forced to confess to having cheated on a math test. “I come from a long line of…uh…I guess you’d say superstitious people.”

Karen nodded encouragingly. “A lot of people do.”

“Yeah, but my family…let’s just say there was a lot of talk about spirits and spells, cursing someone with the evil eye, that kind of thing.”

“Old world stuff, huh?”

“You could say that, yeah.”

“And you believe in that that sort of thing?”

“Well, it’s kinda hard not to when it’s being shoved down your throat from the time you can understand words. I mean, I’ve tried to put it behind me…I know it’s a bunch of superstitious crap…but there’s this little part of me…” He trailed off, sounding a tad guilty to Karen.

“A part of you that can’t escape it?” she volunteered.

“A part of me that wonders. What if it’s not bullshit? What if we really do share the world with things we can’t see?”

“Spirits, you mean?”

He nodded. “Or demons.”

Karen thought this over. “If that were true, then there would have to be angels as well.”

“You don’t believe in angels?”

She looked down at the dog still standing beside her, watching Saul with tense wariness.

“Actually,” she said, “I think I do.”