Patrick D'Orazio: Into the Dark

“It was going to be a new subdivision,” Michael explained as he gestured at the sign. “An exclusive neighborhood, I’m guessing, or at least the perception of one. It’s totally surrounded by pine trees. Secluded, quiet, and-”

“Not visible from the road,” Jeff interrupted, and Michael smiled, nodding. Jeff peered at the sign, which looked brand new. It listed details about the small community: custom homes, the name of the private builder, the acreage of each lot, etc. The neighborhood would have been called “Hidden Pines.” A map with a layout of all the lots had its place on the board as well.

“They had just started clear cutting. I’m guessing they were planning on going deeper into the woods, because currently there’s only enough room for a few lots.”

Jeff was still scanning the open space when the two teenagers arrived on foot. Without hesitation, Ray and Teddy moved toward the RVs and began climbing up the ladder that extended down the rear of the closest one.

Jeff’s eyes gravitated toward the monstrous Winnebagos. He could not see all of them, but the ones he could were parked in a rough circle. They were brand new, with shiny finishes of silver and white. As he scanned back and forth, he saw that they were all close to forty feet in length and over twelve feet high. They were parked right next to one another, with the front right corner of one touching the rear right corner of the next. They were too close together to let anything squeeze in between them.

“They’re brand new, and they’re all identical. All five of them.”

Jeff glanced over at Michael, who moved up next to him as he spoke. “They’re the biggest ones they make. All the comforts of home.”

Jeff studied them a bit more closely and noticed that part of the walls stuck out. He knew next to nothing about recreational vehicles, but recognized the slideout, which expanded the size of the beasts even more. More importantly, he noticed that there were no visible doors. The entrances to the big rigs must all be on the inside of the pentagonal arrangement. There were windows, but they were up out of reach. There was barely any ground clearance either; the soft earth allowed the tires to sink down enough that nothing as large as a human could crawl underneath.

“It looks like you got yourself a nice fortress here, Michael,” Jeff said with grudging respect.

George was taking it all in as well, only half listening to what the other two men were saying. As he looked at the configuration of the RVs, he smiled, his expression distant.

“I’ll be damned.” He moved forward, getting a closer look. He snorted and did his best John Wayne. “Round up the wagons, boys!”

Michael laughed and walked up beside him, slapping him on the shoulder. “Exactly!”

He turned to the others. “Well, let’s start hauling the supplies up and over and get you all settled in.”

His hand grazed the side of the closest RV. His eyes sparkled with pride as he patted the metal beast like a faithful pet.

“They aren’t much, but they do us just fine.”

Less than an hour later, everything from the van was inside the walls of the RV fortress. They got it all in with a makeshift bucket brigade. Afterwards, the newcomers were introduced to the rest of the camp’s residents.

Cindy was in her early twenties, with hair that had been bleached and then dyed black in various areas, repeatedly. Her ears were adorned with multiple piercings, and she had several prominent tattoos on her arms and neck that traveled well beneath her tank top.

As Michael introduced their guests, she did not try to hide her contempt for them. Her lip curled up in a silent snarl as she moved closer to Michael. She barely paid attention as the men and boy were introduced, but her eyes narrowed when Michael came to Megan. Staring at her, Cindy slid a hand up Michael’s back until it reached his hair, then dragged her fingers through it. He tried to shake her off, but she gripped him tighter and yanked his head down to hers to give him a forceful kiss. He seized her shoulders and pushed her back, his face red with embarrassment. Cindy laughed as she turned to walk away. As she casually strolled over to one of the RVs, everyone’s eyes were on her. She reached for the door and turned and looked back at the group, her eyes finding Megan once again.

Michael cleared his throat, bringing everyone’s attention back to him.

“My apologies for Cindy. She’s… ” He shook his head as he searched for the appropriate words. “She’s had it pretty rough, I guess, like most of us.”

The explanation didn’t sit well with Jeff, who slid his hand onto Megan’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She turned, and he saw the fear in her eyes. She relaxed as he smiled, but traces of nervousness remained.

Michael shifted gears, his eyes brightening as he introduced Lydia Olverson. She smiled at them with genuine warmth and surprised them all with hugs. It was clear she was the graying matriarch of the community as she grasped their hands and welcomed them.

When Michael presented her with the food he had commandeered from Jeff’s van, her eyes lit up. She thanked them all profusely until even Megan looked embarrassed at their earlier reactions. Lydia shooed everyone away from the large grill set up in the middle of the communal area and told them lunch would be ready in an hour.

The last citizens of the RV community to whom they were introduced were three small children. As Michael provided everyone with their names, the trio waved timidly at the new acquaintances.

Sadie was a towheaded girl of five. Though she seemed shy, her eyes sparkled as her gaze took in the latest members of the camp. Moments after being introduced, she walked over to where Ben was sitting in the doorway of one of the RVs, stretching his extensive frame. He had a knife out and was whittling on a slender piece of wood. He never made a sound as the little girl began climbing him, striving to reach his shoulders. He adjusted his arms to accommodate her, making sure she did not slip or fall. When she was in the piggyback position, she hunched over and watched as Ben shaped the wood, apparently mesmerized.

Nathan was eight, Joey was nine, and it was clear from the moment Jeff saw them that they were inseparable. Nathan clung to the older boy even when Joey shrugged him off. The two of them immediately glommed onto Jason, peppering him with questions. He did not seem to mind at first, but as they began dragging him back to their RV, he gave a look of desperation to George and Megan, who both smiled and waved at him as he was pulled inside to play with the boys’ Power Ranger action figures.

Jeff took in the thriving little community into which they had been sucked. It was not huge, but with the towering motor homes surrounding them, it felt as if they were in some sort of citadel. The slideouts were all opened, and each RV had an awning extended, giving them an even homier feel. Most of the grass had been worn down in the “courtyard,” as Michael called it. Several picnic tables and lawn chairs were set up, along with a few large umbrellas to provide shade.

Jeff’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at Frank and Marcus, who were standing next to one another by the entrance of the RV they shared. Thus far, Marcus had barely spoken, and Jeff trusted him no more than he did Frank.

Michael led them to an RV out of which the teenagers were clearing their meager gear. It would serve as shelter for the newcomers, and Ray and Teddy would move in with Ben, who had been on his own previously. Michael did his best to sound like a gracious host and ignored the glares of resentment from Jeff, George, and especially Megan. When they stepped inside their new home, however, the three momentarily forgot their anger at being ambushed.