Laymon Laymon: The Woods Are Dark

“When?” johnny asked.

“Maybe tonight.”

“She’s trying to trick us again,” Sherri said.

“No, honest. He’s real and he’s—horrible!”

“We were here last night,” Johnny said. “He didn’t come then.”

“He was out killing. He killed Ben. He would’ve got me, but I hid.”

“If he comes,” said Sherri, “we’ll just hide.”

“You’re crazy. He’ll kill you all.” She pushed herself to her feet. “I’m going back. I’ll tell ’em you aren’t coming out.”

“Don’t go back,” Johnny said. “Stay here. We’ll all get out.”

“Oh no you won’t. I’ve seen… I’ve seen him. I’m going back.”

She stepped unsteadily toward the open door.

“Cordelia, don’t.”

“You’re fools,” she said. She pointed through the doorway. “Your heads’ll be out there, by morning.”

Her sword was propped beside the door. She reached for it.

“Leave that here,” Johnny said.

“Okay,” she said.

Then she grabbed it, whirled around, and attacked.

She drove the blade toward Robbins’s chest. He was sitting on the floor. It should have been easy.

But in the few steps she took to reach him, Neala dived at her legs, Sherri scurried toward the fireplace, and Robbins dropped backward. She kicked through Neala’s arms, and lunged at Robbins. His leg swung up. It caught the blade. Crying out with pain, he threw himself sideways. The leg of his jeans held the blade. She lost the sword.

Sherri swung the fire poker at her head. She blocked it with her forearm. Neala, sprawled on the floor, grabbed her left leg and bit into her calf. As she tore loose from Neala, Sherri swung again. The poker’s black point whipped past her eyes, just missing. She turned and ran. At the door, the poker slashed. It ripped down her back. She raced for the forest of pikes, Sherri close behind. The poker whushed. Missed. A skull leered at her. She ducked under its crossbar. Falling to her knees, she scrambled forward.

She looked over her shoulder. Sherri had stopped.

Neala appeared in the doorway with the rifle. She aimed and fired. Dirt and twigs exploded from the ground beside Cordie.

She lurched forward, plowing through a dozen crosses before another shot blasted the stillness. She threw herself down.

Something under her belly. She knew, without looking, what it had to be. With a gasp, she rolled off it. Her back hit a pole. She froze.

Nothing fell.

Lying on her side, panting, she could still feel the touch of what she had fallen on. She shut her eyes tightly, and reached down. With the back of her hand, she knocked it away.

Then she lay down flat, again, and waited for the next shot.

It didn’t come.

Finally, she looked back. Sherri and Neala were gone.

She pushed herself to her hands and knees. Ahead, through the tilting bars of many pikes, the Krulls waited. They were silent. All seemed to be watching her.

She remembered Grar’s warning. If you betray us, your death will be horrible beyond nightmares.

They can’t get me here, she thought.

She lowered herself to the ground. She cushioned her face on an arm bruised by the poker, and shut her eyes. The ground felt good beneath her, in spite of the scratchy twigs and weeds.

She would stay here.

Though the breeze was mild, the sun baked her back. Sweat slid down her skin. Sometimes, she felt the tickle of insects. But she didn’t move. It would hurt to move. And it would do no good, because there was no way to escape the heat or bugs.

No way to escape the pain.

Or the Krulls.

No, this is how to escape the Krulls.

This is how.

This…

Then the terrible heat was gone. She opened her eyes, and saw that dusk had fallen.

Many of the Krulls were gone. Many remained.

Maybe when darkness came…

No.

If she left, they would find her.

Do unspeakable things. Your death will be horrible

She lowered her head, and closed her eyes. This is a good place to be. A good place.

“Johnny, no.”

“Here, give me the rifle.”

“You can’t make it.”

“I can try. You two hold out as long as you can. If I don’t get back with help, go on out to the Krulls and make the best of it.”

Sherri handed the rifle to him.

Using it as a brace, Johnny pushed himself to his feet. He hobbled across the candlelit room. Sweat poured down his back. Neala saw that he was putting no weight on his bandaged leg.

“Johnny…”

“Once I get to the car, I’ll be okay. It’ll just take longer than…” The rifle slipped in his grip. He winced and fell.

Neala rushed to him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said.

“No, it’s not.”

He planted the rifle butt, and started to push himself up. He gritted his teeth. He blinked sweat out of his eyes. His body trembled.

Neala took hold of his arm. “Wait. Just sit down and rest for a minute. Please.”

He lowered himself.

“Here, I’ll take the rifle.”

He gripped it.

“I need to go out for a second.”

“Again?” Sherri asked.

She sighed. “Must be something I ate. Or didn’t eat.”

“I’ll go with you,” Sherri said.

“Christ, I don’t need a guard.”

“Okay. Well hurry.”

“Be right back.” She kissed Johnny lightly on the mouth. Then she went out the open door. She walked quickly to the rear of the cabin. The gibbous moon hung low over the distant trees. She wished it weren’t so bright.

Propping the rifle against the cabin wall, she stepped out of her corduroys. She took Johnny’s key case from a pocket, and slipped it into the front of her panties. Then she took off her shirt.

The breeze had died, soon after dark, leaving the air still and warm. In spite of the warmth, she shivered as she picked up the rifle. She put the sling over her head. The rifle slapped against her back. The sling tugged at her shoulder. It crossed her body, its wide leather strap digging into her right breast. She adjusted it so it passed between her breasts. Then, crouching, she made her way toward the pikes.

“Neala!”

Sherri’s voice. Glancing back, she saw her friend run at her.

She rushed for the crosses, but Sherri grabbed her by the hair, yanked her to the ground, and dropped onto her. She grunted in pain as the rifle rammed her back. Sherri clutched her wrists and pressed them down.

“Let go of me, damn it!”

“You want to go off and get yourself killed!”

“Get off me!”

“No. I can’t. I can’t let you do it, Neala.”

“If I don’t go, Johnny will try.”

“We can stop him. Between the two of us…”

“Sherri, for Godsake, don’t you realize? We can’t stay in this cabin. We’ll all die. Even if the Krulls stay away, even if this devil never comes, we’ll just die in here.”

“We could give up, and live with the Krulls.”

“Sure. Only what happens to Johnny?”

“Yeah, I know.” She stared into Neala’s eyes. “You love him, don’t you?”

She let go of Neala’s wrists, and gently stroked her face. “Oh Neala,” she whispered. “Oh goddamn it, Neala. Don’t forget me, huh?”

“Wha… ?”

Sherri’s fist swung down. It struck the side of Neala’s head. She saw the other fist come down, and tried to block it, but she couldn’t get her arm up fast enough. The fist hit, rocking her head.

The weight of Sherri’s body left. She tried to raise her head, but couldn’t. She felt drunk, powerless to control her movements.

Sherri pulled the rifle sling away from her breasts. Rolled her. Pulled the rifle away. She flopped onto her back again. The ground felt much better without the hardness of the rifle.