Of the Trees(80)

“I’ve told you, darling,” a soft, feminine voice said. Cassie tensed, not recognizing the honeyed tone. “She doesn’t see. Not like our Laney.”

“She does,” whispered Laney. Cassie let her eyes fall closed as a wave of pain swept through her chest. She was here, so close to Cassie. She saw her, was watching her, was walking practically beside her. But Cassie didn’t look up. She couldn’t.

Something had dawned on her, some slow realization came to life.

They truly didn’t know if she could see them. They knew Laney could. They knew Ryan couldn’t. They thought Jessica had been able to, but they were completely uncertain about Cassie.

It was suddenly clear, bad things came to those who could see these creatures.

“How are we so far from the road?” Ryan said. She could sense the touch of panic there, his unsettled realization that something wasn’t right. “We shouldn’t have come in here.”

Cassie agreed, but she did not speak. The light was leaching from the sky. It was already a deep purple. The moon shone brightly, a halo of mist making it seem like a beacon in the sky. She tripped, and was grateful Ryan was there to yank her back to her feet. She paused, scanning the forest around them.

“Do you have a flashlight?” Cassie asked, squinting up at Ryan. Already his features were hard to make out. She saw him shake his head. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. A beam of light lit the forest around them, and Cassie froze. Six pairs of gleaming eyes watched her from just beyond the trees. Her throat felt dry and she twitched with the urge to run. One set slanted, the owner’s head tilting in consideration, his eyes hauntingly blue.

She turned back to Ryan, gripped his fingers tightly, and let him lead.

“Who’s out there?” Ryan shouted. He swept the trees with his light, elongating shadows and forcing gray bark into white brilliance. He couldn’t hear the low laugh that echoed back.

They stepped forward together, Cassie refusing to let him go. The underbrush was thick and tangled, and Ryan cursed, unable to break through.

“This isn’t right,” he murmured. “We didn’t pass through any of this to get here.”

“I know,” Cassie replied, she brought her free hand to his back. “Maybe we should just call someone.”

Terror started to eat away at her, the anticipation that something awful was about to happen to them out here in the woods. They were being watched, played with. Cat and mouse. Only the mouse was in a maze that the cat controlled. She couldn’t explain it to Ryan. There was no way to tell him that the forest was preventing them from leaving. He wouldn’t understand. She barely understood. She just knew they were watching, laughing, taunting. That they wanted her to …

To what?

That, she wasn’t sure. Why they wouldn’t leave her alone, she couldn’t explain. She just knew that they were there and that they wouldn’t go away.

Ryan cut the light and Cassie blinked into the darkness. An owl hooted softly. Other than that, the night was silent. Ryan’s face could be seen in the glow of his phone screen, a bubble of light in the darkness.

Quickly before she could scream, as though he had materialized out of thin air, a face appeared next to Ryan’s. His skin was the same soft, luminescent paleness that Laney’s new face was. He leered at Ryan, his lips twisting slowly into a scowl. His gaze locked on Cassie’s as he bent close to Ryan, his breath ghosting over his cheek. She saw an arm raise and crash back down, catching Ryan in the back of the skull, and he fell.

“No!” she shouted, falling to her knees. She crouched over Ryan, cradling him to her chest protectively. She rocked back and forth, feeling ridiculously exposed in the dark, night air. They hovered around her. She could feel the air move as they did, sense the footsteps on the dead forest floor all around her. They watched.

“She doesn’t see,” someone whispered.

“Get rid of him,” Aidan hissed. Cassie clenched her arms tightly around Ryan. She could feel his breath, his heartbeat, solid and warm, but he wasn’t waking. She felt for his phone, her fingers scattering through dead leaves and dirt. She needed help. She didn’t think she could get out of this alone, not dragging Ryan. She couldn’t leave him behind.

It happened slowly, just a low tremble at first. She thought it had come from her, a side effect of the horror, a slow shaking washing through her. But then she realized it was the ground. It was moving, churning. The stench of rot filled her nose, and she screamed.

Not again. Not again!

NOT AGAIN!

She felt for Ryan’s arms, forced her hands underneath them and dragged him back. He flopped back on her, groaning.

“Wake up, wake up,” she pleaded, pulling him away. She lost her footing, falling back, the dirt roiling under her as she fell. Her heels dug in, pushing back against the soft earth and she moved, fractionally but still moved.

“Don’t do that!”

Cassie nearly sobbed as Laney’s shrill voice cut through the darkness. Laney. She would make them stop. Even if Cassie refused to acknowledge them, even if she pretended she couldn’t hear them, Laney would stop it.

“She’s not ready,” Laney insisted, her voice rising in volume. “You’ll kill her.”

“Hush, love,” Corey whispered. The darkness covered them all like a blanket, kept them from Cassie’s sight. She could hear their soft whispers, hear the shuffling of their feet. But the ground ripping apart below her was overshadowing them, the snap of roots and the tear of mossy soil. Her legs were cold with mud, and she scrambled back, never letting Ryan go even though she knew it might mean that she went with him. Into the mud, into the earth, swallowed by the trees.