A. Colucci - Seeders

Shit, what am I doing? She stepped along the path. The woods were colorless, shrouded in white fog that closed behind her like a gate.

“Luke,” she called out, keeping her voice low. Dr. Beecher could be hiding anywhere. The thought made her want to go back, but she couldn’t bear the idea of Luke out in the ocean alone. Besides, who did this Beecher guy think he was, freaking everyone out so they were stuck in the damn house for days? Luke’s life was at stake, a hundred grand was in her grasp, and no lunatic was going to scare her out of it.

She heard a noise and stopped. Deep in the woods, a shadowy figure stood in the mist. He waved his arm. The air was too thick to tell for sure, but it had to be Luke. Then he turned around and went deeper into the clouds.

“Where are you going?” Monica said and veered off the path, following the sound of breaking twigs. “Hey, get back here.”

She tried to keep up with the silhouette in the distance, but the terrain was steep as he led her over rocks and fallen trees. Eventually the ground became level, but she had lost sight of the figure. She was alone in the fog.

“I’m going back!” she shouted.

She turned around. The air grew suddenly colder, thicker. She reached out her arms and both hands disappeared in the clouds. She panicked and felt around for a tree, grasping the bark and moving to another, trying to feel her way back to the path. Hanging vines and branches seemed to come out of nowhere and she stumbled on bulging roots.

“This isn’t funny, Luke.”

In the back of her mind lurked a terrible thought: Luke would never play such a trick. Perhaps he wasn’t the waving figure after all. It was too short to be Beecher. It didn’t look like Sean, but it could have been. Of course, she thought with an angry grin. Sean was trying to scare her. The little mutant was one brain cell shy of the walking dead.

The fog began to dissipate and she found herself in front of an enormous outcropping of rocks. She felt along the cold stones with her hands, moving around its girth, but the ground became steep and she had trouble keeping her footing. Then she slipped and fell down a hill of wet leaves, slamming into a tree stump. She stood up rubbing her leg. There were more boulders at the bottom of the hill, steeples of bedrock as tall as a house. The fog had turned to light mist and bits of blue sky peeked between the canopy of branches.

From behind the rocks, Monica heard the crunch of leaves and she froze.

“Hey, who’s there?” She took a few steps back. “I know it’s you, Sean.”

There was no reply, but more crunching leaves.

“Hey, cut it out.” Monica moved slowly between two pillars of granite. There was a small cavern of space between them where a circular rush of air blew dried leaves in a tiny cyclone. She stepped closer inside the shadow of the rocks. A soft wind blew across her face and Monica thought she heard a thin voice in the breeze.

Stay —

“What?” she yelled and stepped back from the rocks. “Don’t mess with me, Sean. I’ll kick your ass.”

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she could kick his ass. Sometimes the quiet ones were feisty. He probably fought like a monkey, arms swinging, teeth snapping. She turned her head to the hill where she fell. It was a steep, muddy climb back to the top.

From behind the rocks came the sound of something heavy being dragged across the ground.

She peered around the granite, and screamed.

The dead body of Hodges reached out to her. The smell hit her like a wall, as she stood face-to-face with the corpse. Its droopy skin hung from sharp cheekbones and his expression was set in a snarl. There were only black holes for eyes, but he was looking at her all the same. A hissing sound came from inside his open jawbone.

Monica screamed again. She pivoted and stumbled halfway up the incline, slipping on mud. She gained more ground and stole a quick glance back.

Hodges was trying to crawl up the hill, dragging the plastic body bag around his ankle.

Her boots dug into the mud but she slipped almost to the bottom.

Hodges leapt forward and grabbed on to her boot with his bony hands.

She kicked hard and two of his fingers snapped off, setting her free to climb harder.

The corpse let out a howl.

Monica struggled near the top of the hill where the incline became too steep to climb. She grabbed a rock with one hand and dug her fingers into the mud with the other. Her muscles were trembling violently and she turned her head around.

Hodges fell clumsily to the ground. He tried swimming uphill in the dirt, desperate to reach her. Thrashing his arms like a windmill, he drew some traction and lifted his ragged body with a moan.

Monica lost her grip and slid down the hill.

Isabelle awoke to the grim reality that she was still in her childhood home, caught in a nightmare. The air in the room was frigid. The window was raised a few inches but she didn’t recall opening it.

Wrapped in a blanket, she shuffled across the cold wood floor and slammed the old rickety frame shut. Through the glass she saw the remnants of a fog clearing, blowing across the fields like wisps of smoke. Above, blue sky was breaking through.

Then she saw Monica step out of the woods, leaning over to grab her knees, breathing hard as though she’d been out for a strenuous morning run.

Isabelle stared in jaw-dropped silence. Unbelievable .

She threw on jeans and a red flannel shirt and hurried across the hall. First she checked on Sean, who wasn’t in his room. She knocked on Luke’s door.

“It’s open.”

She peered inside. Luke was lying in bed reading The Human Delusion by Dr. Julian Beecher.

“Have you seen your brother?”

“No.” He didn’t look up.

Halfway down the staircase, she met up with Monica, who was taking the steps two at a time, her face paper white.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Monica replied, averting her eyes and trying to sound normal. “I saw something in the woods.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to go out there?”

“Sorry,” she barely managed.

“Was it Sean you saw in the woods?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know. I thought it was Luke.”

“Luke’s in his room.”

“I have to go.” She rushed past her up the stairs.

Isabelle blew out a disgruntled breath. She watched Monica reach the landing and listened to the knock on Luke’s door. It opened and she heard a whimper before it shut.

Isabelle paced the kitchen, getting worked up. It was beyond reason why the stupid girl would go into the woods alone. And what had she seen? Most likely it was Jules trying to frighten her. First he went batshit crazy on Isabelle and now he was terrorizing the children.

She thought about the missing weapons in the shed, wondering what he had in mind. What she should do about it. A rational person would lock up the house, stay inside, and wait until help arrived. But she didn’t feel rational. She didn’t feel scared. What she wanted more than anything was to confront Jules. Put an end to his absurd talk about thinking plants. She wanted him to be the same man she admired so many years ago.

Isabelle checked each room, looking for Sean. He was not in the house and she worried he might be at the campsite. She put on a jacket, eager to get outside before she changed her mind. She considered taking the rifle, but decided that seemed too threatening, and Jules was already paranoid. Instead, she slipped a steak knife in her coat pocket and headed out the door.

The fog had evaporated from the woods, leaving the fresh scent of the sea and pine. Isabelle walked the trail and felt the heavy weight of anger begin to lift. She was calmer now, but light-headed. Floaters danced in her vision and her throat felt parched. She hadn’t eaten breakfast and decided to sit on a rock until the feeling passed. She closed her eyes and swallowed.