The Woods Are Dark

He could feel the loss, already, like a hollow in his chest.

Never to see her again.

If it were just himself, he’d go back there, maybe, and if it weren’t already too late… He could get away, all right. They’d come for Peggy, though. And Hank. And their kids.

Everybody’d have to leave. The whole family.

So why not? If they could get past the boundary, they’d be all right. He could take the woman to Los Angeles, maybe…

You’re dreaming her life away!

Leaping to his feet, he rushed across the porch and threw open the front door. His hand hit the switch. Blinking in the sudden brightness, he crossed the room to his gun case. He took down his 30-30 Winchester, picked up a box of cartridges, and ran outside.

His old Buick was parked on the street. He sped two blocks to his sister’s house, and ran to the screen door. He knocked hard, then entered.

“Peggy!”

She came out of the kitchen, worry on her round face.

“For Petesakes, Johnny…”

“I need to talk to you. Outside.”

Hank appeared in the kitchen doorway. He eyed Robbins with suspicion. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Nothing. Just want a word with Peg.”

Hank’s eyes narrowed. “Big secret, huh?”

“She’ll tell you all about it.” Robbins grabbed his sister’s fleshy arm and pulled her out the door. He hurried across the lawn, dragging her along.

“We’re getting out of here tonight,” he said.

“What?”

“Tonight’s run. There was a girl. I’m going back for her.”

“Johnny, no!”

“I have to.”

“Dear God! Oh dear God!”

“Listen, we’re getting out of here. All of us.”

“No!”

“I’ll get back here as soon as I can. Have Hank and the kids ready to go.”

“Hank won’t leave. You know that. He wouldn’t leave here for the world.”

“That’s his worry, then.”

“Johnny, you can’t do this to us!”

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life here? Do you, Peg? Do you want Jenny and Bill to grow up the way we did? Do you want them turned into murderers like the rest of us?”

She was crying, the tears glistening in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. “We can’t leave!”

“You will

“But Hank.”

“If he won’t come along, the hell with him. You’d be better off without him.”

“I know, but…”

“He can’t stop you.” Johnny hugged his sister tightly. “Don’t worry, okay? We’ll make it.”

She shook her head. “Don’t do this to us. Oh please, Johnny, don’t.”

“Half an hour,” he said, and climbed into his car.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Neala said.

“Just how do you plan to manage it?”

“I don’t know!” Neala’s voice cracked into a sob. She turned her hands, rattling the cuffs that held her prisoner against the tree.

“We’d better think of something quick,” Sherri said. “That whistle was some kind of a signal.”

“Maybe we can pull free.”

“Let’s give it a try.”

They worked their wrists against the barkless tree behind them.

“Mine are both awfully tight,” Sherri said.

“My left seems just a bit—”

“Oh Jesus!” Sherri gasped, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s in the tree.”

Neala looked to her right, tipping back her head.

“No, the other way. Beside us.”

She turned to the left. She raised her eyes up the weathered trunk to the high branches. At first, she saw only jagged limbs, pale in the moonlight like bones stripped of their flesh. Then one of them moved, and she realized it was a leg. A second leg dangled beside it. She followed them upward to a bare hip and torso, a head with shaggy hair. If there were breasts, she couldn’t see them. “Is he alive?” Neala whispered.

“I can’t tell. Looks dead to me.”

Neala continued to squint upward. The figure seemed to be straddling a branch, arms at his sides. His head was tilted downward, as if he were watching her. “I think one of the legs moved,” she said. “Could’ve been the wind, I guess.”

“I hope so.”

“You hope he’s dead?” Neala asked.

“Hell yes. How would you like him to come down for us?”

“God, don’t say that.”

“He’s probably one of them whatever the fuck they are. I mean, why else would he be out here?”

Neala didn’t answer. She stared at the high, motionless figure until the sound of a car engine drew her eyes away. Across the clearing, headlights appeared.

“They’re coming back!”

As the headlights approached, Neala saw that they were higher than those of the pickup. “It’s someone else,” she said. “In a van, I think.”

“Just as well,” Sherri answered.

It came through the darkness, not stopping where the pickup had stopped. Its beams skittered over the ground as if seeking out Neala. They lit her and stayed, dimming just slightly when the engine shut off.

“What’s going on?” Sherri asked.

“I can’t see,” Neala whispered, squinting past the headlights. “Someone just got out. He went to the back, I think.”

“End of the line,” said a man’s cheerful voice. “All out that’s getting out.”

A woman cackled.

“I think we’d better do as they say.” A man’s voice. Frightened.

“Daddy!”

“Here, hold on to Ben’s wrist.”

“What do you want with us?” a woman demanded.

More raspy chuckles.

“I know what Rose Petal wants,” said the cheerful man. “She wants to pound out your brains with her hammer. I’ll let her, too, if you don’t make it snappy.”