James Moore - The Haunted Forest Tour

“We can’t just sit here.”

Barbara looked at Tina and tried not to sigh with exasperation. Tina was right, of course. No one would find them anytime soon if they stayed in the water reclamation plant, and it wasn’t like they had any supplies to keep them alive during a long wait for the search party. They didn’t even have an aspirin to help Brad, whose face was far beyond simply being “pasty.” Barbara didn’t say anything, of course, but the man looked absolutely terrible.

“We have to, at least for now.” Barbara leaned in and spoke as calmly as she could. “Eddie is out there trying to get help for us, and there’s just no way we could get out of here with Brad. When Eddie does bring help, he’s going to bring it here, not to some other random location in the forest, so we need to stay put. And it’s going to start to get dark soon. It’s dangerous enough when we can see. The flashlights aren’t going to keep us from getting ambushed.”

“Well, we can’t stay here forever,” said Jean.

“I’m not suggesting that we stay here forever. We’ll wait until tomorrow morning, sunrise, and then we’ll go. Maybe we won’t have to wait all that long. Maybe Eddie will come back with reinforcements before then. For now, we have shelter, and it’s best not to leave it.”

Jean slid her arm around Tommy, who was staring at the wall again, fascinated by whatever he was seeing. There was nothing on the wall, of course. Tommy’s only reaction to his aunt’s touch was to blink and look back at Brad where he rested on the ground.

“I realize it’s still very early, but I think we all could at least use a nap.” Lee spoke softly, his face haunted. The encounter with the Proof Demon, as he called it, had obviously rattled him badly. He wouldn’t even look at anyone else. “When assistance does arrive, it may not be an armored tank. We may still need to be awake and alert, so now is a good time to get some rest. I propose a watch.”

Mindy nodded. “I’m for that. We’ll take it in shifts. Maybe two people at a time, just to be safe.”

The others agreed immediately, except for Jean, who said nothing.

“We can barricade the doors,” said Barbara. “That’s a good starting point.”

They all grew silent for a few moments. Lee’s haunted expression faded, and he got an ornery smile on his face. “So who knows a few good ghost stories?”

Jean practically exploded. “ You think this is fucking funny ?” She stood up, knocking Tommy aside without even seeming to notice it. Barbara looked at the woman and ground her teeth together. Jean was not finished with her rant. “I lost my husband earlier today! We’re stuck in the middle of this goddamned dump, which is in the middle of this fucking forest full of fucking monsters and you want to crack jokes? Fuck you!”

Lee glanced at Jean for a moment and shook his head. His lips pressed together firmly.

Barbara looked from one to the other, wondering what she could say to defuse the situation.

Mindy stared only at her hands as she spoke. “You should have shot her, Lee.”

Jean’s head snapped around fast enough to cause whiplash. “What the fuck did you say?”

“I said he should have shot you. It would have been a mercy killing.”

Jean sputtered in return, her mouth gaping open and snapping closed a dozen times.

“You think you’re the only one, is that it? You lost your husband? I lost my son. So don’t you dare whine about how shitty your life is. We all get it.”

Jean didn’t answer. Instead she settled back against the desk and leaned her head back. She closed her eyes and acted as if none of them were there.

Lee coughed softly. “Everyone get some rest. Who wants to join me on watch?”

Barbara settled in as best she could, while Mindy and Lee took the first watch. She did not sleep. Exhausted as she was, she had trouble believing she’d ever sleep again.

But they slept, most of them, as well as was possible in the cramped, spooky quarters. Tommy tried to join them, but after a while he sat up because he could feel the nightmares coming. They were trying to sneak into his head when nobody was looking, and he didn’t trust them to stay away.

Nightmares were always trying to do things to him. Like what they were doing to his parents. Mom and Dad would go to bed at night and sometimes he’d hear them when the nightmares got to them. He could hear them crying out, or arguing because of the bad dreams.

Mr. Lee was talking in his sleep. Aunt Jean was crying, but he couldn’t tell if she was awake or not. She’d been crying a lot. He wished he could help her, but he was afraid to move. The Gray Man might get him if he moved. Everybody else called him Brad, but to Tommy, he was the Gray Man. Mostly because his skin had lost all of its tan and gone a sickly shade of gray. Miss Tina was worried about him and kept checking on him and saying she loved him, but Tommy wasn’t worried about him.

He was worried about the thing inside of him. Tommy couldn’t see it, but he could smell it. So could everyone else when they got close to the Gray Man, but they kept looking around like the smell was coming from somewhere else. Tommy knew better. He’d walked around the room a few times earlier, and he knew the stinky mold scent came from the Gray Man as surely as he knew that his uncle was dead and the nice lady, Becca, was dead too.

Tommy closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again, wishing that he was back in his bed. Even if Mommy and Daddy were fighting, it would be better than this place.

Something moved off to his left, where the Gray Man had been resting. He heard a dripping noise, like water trickling from a busted pipe—Daddy had fixed one of those last year and he still remembered the sounds—and then the smell from the Gray Man came along, stronger than before.

Tommy tried to make a noise, but no sound came from his mouth. His voice was frozen.

The Gray Man moved again, letting off more wet noises. It sounded like his clothes were soaked, and the stench of mildew grew so strong that it made Tommy’s nose wrinkle.

Tommy held his breath.

“Tommy?” The voice was faint, a hint of a whisper that he knew no one else would hear. “Tommy, can you help me? I’m very cold. I can’t see.”

The Gray Man was speaking to him. Tommy’s skin crawled and he bit his bottom lip to make sure he didn’t make a sound. The Gray Man’s hand moved closer, reaching for him. Tommy had stayed in the same spot for most of the time they’d been in the building, except when Mr. Lee took him to go pee outside. Now he was back at his seat at the desk, and perched on the rolling chair. He slid off the seat as quietly as he could, avoiding the clammy hand that reached for him.

He wanted to wake Aunt Jean. She would know what to do. All he had to do was remember where she was, because it was too dark to see her anywhere. He wanted to call out for her, but ever since he’d seen the…

…his mind refused to let him remember what had happened to Becca and the others. He could remember them and that they were dead, but beyond that, he could manage nothing…

…well, ever since he’d been lost in the woods, he couldn’t make himself talk.

Tommy took exactly two steps backward and tripped over his own foot in the darkness. He fell, pin-wheeling his arms, and slammed the edge of his head into the desk with an audible crack.

He winced and closed his eyes as the pain lashed through his skull and made his eyes water. His hands moved up in a futile effort to protect the spot where he’d just done himself harm.

The Gray Man stopped moving, stopped whispering, and even the wet sounds from around his body ceased.