James Moore - The Haunted Forest Tour

Just past his mother, several sets of eyes stared back, watching every movement that she made; in front of him the little boy and his mom were quiet, both looking at the roof as something heavy paced repeatedly, scraping claws across the top of the tram. The tour guide was leaning over and whispering to a young man two seats ahead of him. Finally, Barbara pointed to the front of the tram and the man nodded his head before getting up and walking past her, shuffling his feet.

Christopher did everything he could to avoid looking out of his own window, because if he kept seeing these nightmarish creatures, even through the protective glass, he was probably going to freak out a little. He hadn’t expected to be squeamish, but something about having twelve perfectly round eyes looking at him from above a set of hairy mandibles big enough to eat his face was making him a little twitchy.

Barbara came over, a strained smile on her face, and leaned in close enough that he could smell the perfume she was wearing. It smelled like cotton candy. Nice. When she spoke, it was in a conspiratorial tone. “Hi, listen, we’re pretty sure that another tram car is due in a few minutes and that they’ll get everything taken care of.”

“That’s nice. Good to hear. I’m glad.”

She continued. “Just as a precaution, we’re scouting out a few people who would be willing to carry a firearm if it comes down to that, which it won’t, we’re certain. We only have a few, plus our driver has something more substantial if it’s needed, but I wanted to know if you would consider being ‘deputized’ until this is over with.”

Christopher looked at Barbara for several heartbeats before nodding. “Um, yeah, if you think it becomes necessary. Sure.”

“We don’t think it will. Have you ever fired a weapon before?”

“A few times.” He didn’t mention that the biggest thing he’d ever fired was a pellet gun, though he’d almost put out the neighborhood bully’s eye with it, so he knew how to do some damage. Besides, he was pretty sure he could figure out how to handle the firearm if the situation came up, and he wanted to be damned sure somebody on board was watching out for his mom.

Barbara smiled again. “Great, thanks. Again, we’re certain it won’t come down to that, but it’s best to be prepared, right?”

“Absolutely.” He had a hundred questions he wanted to ask— Did the weapons come with silver bullets? Was there any proof that some of the things out there were actually susceptible to firearms damage? Were there any cute and cuddly things hiding in the woods, because, damn, the ugly and menacing stuff sure seemed to be in the majority?— but instead he nodded as Barbara gave him instructions to see the driver and then took her leave, heading towards the drill sergeant-looking man who was holding on to his crying daughter.

Christopher looked over to his window when he heard the scraping noises. The spider-thing was trying to chew through the reinforced window, though, happily, it didn’t seem like it was getting anywhere.

Damn bug.

His mom leaned across the aisle and whispered to him. “So you’ve been deputized. Is that like a guarantee of getting a date with the cute tour guide, or what?”

“I think she’s a little distracted right now, Mom.” He looked back at Barbara. “Also, a little young.”

“Oh, please! Your dad was ten years older than me.”

The floor began to vibrate under his feet, and Christopher looked over his shoulder to the back of the vehicle. Through the window he could see a distant pinpoint of light through the murky forest and past the growing numbers of creatures waiting outside.

“I think we might be in luck. I think the next tram is coming.”

“Oh, good!” Mindy shifted in her seat and looked back toward the window with him. “This is fun and all, but after a while even staring at all-new monsters makes me edgy.”

As they watched, the light came closer and several of the things outside started stepping away as if the oncoming illumination hurt their eyes. That wasn’t surprising, since at least three of the things back there had eyes that seemed almost totally made of pupil.

As the things in the world outside of their safety bubble moved away, Christopher caught better glimpses of them in the light and almost wished he hadn’t. What the hell is something with wet tentacles doing on dry land? And why does it have wings? He wasn’t really sure he wanted to know.

The light at the front of the approaching vehicle grew quickly. After sitting in the gloom for a while and watching freakish things move up and over the tram, Christopher’s eyes ached as they tried to readjust.

“Say, honey, do you think that thing is coming sort of fast?” His mom frowned as she spoke.

“Maybe a little…” Okay, maybe a lot . They hadn’t been moving anywhere near the same speed when they’d been touring. It was impossible to see anything past the headlights, but was there something else on top of the tram car? He couldn’t tell.

“Seriously, they won’t be able to slow down in time.”

Christopher nodded and shouted to the other tourists without even thinking about it. “Everyone put on your seatbelts, now !” He quickly turned around and began to refasten his. His mom followed suit a second later.

Several other people were looking over their seats now, all of them watching the approaching vehicle. Most listened to his suggestion, but a few of them kept staring, some at the approaching car and others at the beasts around them.

The heavy-sounding beast on the roof suddenly jumped off amid a clatter of scrapes and a loud roar.

Christopher craned his neck around until he could look out the back window again. “You’re right, Mom. They’re not slowing down.” His throat felt hot and dry. His pulse raced at the thought of a four-ton one-car locomotive ramming into them. Oh, this was going to be so very bad…

“Just brace yourself and try to relax, honey. Think solid, immobile thoughts.”

Barbara rushed past them, heading for her own safety spot near the front of the tram. “ Everyone please secure your seat belts immediately !” All pretense of calm was gone from her face.

The heavyset man a few rows in front of them stood up with a stunned expression on his face. Apparently he couldn’t believe there was a chance of danger from another group of tourists.

“What’s happening?” His voice quavered. “What’s wrong?”

Christopher shot him a hard look. “Buckle up and sit the hell down!”

The man got a sour I-just-swallowed-a-thousand-legged-bug expression and opened his mouth to make a comment. Behind him, through the window, Christopher could see the various shapes and nightmares outside the tram backing away. Some of them had faces too alien to read, but a few seemed to be grinning in anticipation.

The light from the car behind them filled the entire cabin of the tram, and the obese man held his hands before his face as if to hide from the light or the full understanding that they were about to get creamed. He let out a bellow of fear and looked away.

There was one loud blast of an air horn.

And then impact.

The tram-on-tram collision worked out poorly for all concerned.

The first vehicle, stationary and powerless, moved forward fifteen feet despite the fact that the brakes were down and in a locked position. The rear end of the vehicle rose completely off the ground during the crash. Neal Whistler, who had made countless foolish decisions during the course of his life and whose final decision to stand up instead of strapping himself into his seat continued that trend, was catapulted through the air.