GHOST LIGHT ROAD

October 31, 1995

For the first time in my life, my apartment was empty of anything revealing my deep, enduring love of Halloween. In past years, plastic spiders had dangled from synthetic webs in every corner while a caged zombie with a smoke machine stood guard over jack o’ lantern-shaped candy bowls lined up by the front door.

I’d rejected the idea of passing out candy this year, opting instead to watch a Friday the 13th marathon on basic cable, accompanied by a diminishing supply of Budweiser.

It was pretty depressing. I was getting old and boring.

Watching a slasher flick edited for TV was the entertainment equivalent of eating a vegetarian cheeseburger: it looks almost identical, but lacks the ingredients essential to its appeal. After suffering through the first couple of installments of homogenized horror, I was about ready to slit my own wrists just to see a little blood.

I was wrapped up in my cozy blanket, listlessly twirling an empty bottle around as I listened to the backwash slush around inside. Onscreen, a hockey-masked Jason Voorhees delivered a machete chop to a hapless victim’s head, but I barely noticed.

The phone rang, startling me.

I had no intentions of talking to anyone on the phone.

When it became clear the caller was not going to give up, I grumbled and stumbled to where the telephone hung on the wall and jerked the handset out of its cradle.

“This is Joe’s Taxidermy.” I allowed my voice to slip into a half-hearted east Texas twang. “You snuff ‘em, we stuff ‘em. Whatcha’ got fer me?”

“I got me one a them there mountain lions.” A female voice, echoing my phony accent. “What’s up, bro?” It was my sister, Monica.

“Watching movies, dodging trick-or-treaters, what about you?”

“Oh, you know. Chillin’ like Bob Dylan.”

“That’s good. Are you staying in tonight?”

When I was Monica’s age, I spent Halloween with friends at Ronnie Van Zandt’s tomb at Jacksonville Memory Gardens, tripping on acid, making out with some random girl and having the time of my life.

“I’m bored, man. Why don’t you come pick us up?”

“Why me?”

“My insurance lapsed, I can’t drive and the bums I’m hanging out with are without wheels.”

“Sorry, sis. I’m about to lie down and catch some Zs. Besides, I don’t own a car, either.”

“Come on, man. You can borrow mom’s wheels any old time you feel like it. Don’t even lie and tell me you don’t have your own set of keys.”

“Actually, I am going to borrow the car, but only to cruise up to the store and load up on beer so I can sleep tonight.”

She saw her chance then. “My friend Justin has lots of alcohol. He said you can have as much as you want if you’ll take us out to Ghost Light Road.”

And there it was.

I heard a garbled male voice shouting in the background, but I couldn’t make out the words.

My sister snapped at the guy. “Deal with it, man. Go find your girlfriend. Damn!”

“And whom might you be slumming with tonight, Monica?” I asked, afraid to know, really.

“I’m with Justin and his girlfriend.” I didn’t hear anything for at least a full minute. I was on the verge of disconnecting the line, when she continued in a ghostly whisper. “Tonight’s the night we will see the light.”

“And what are you on?”

“Do it for your sister, man. It’ll be like old times . . . when we were knee high to some old June bugs. Are you telling me you were going to hide in bed all night? Why are you going to try and bullshit me like that, Billy?”

She knew how to push my buttons, but she was right. I really hated my self-imposed solitude. It would be good to get away, even if it meant associating with my sister’s punk-ass friends. If I wanted to escape the cold clutches of father time’s gnarled fingers, and keep what remained of my spirit intact, I could not sit around and stare at the television when I had been offered a chance to get out and enjoy the night.

So, I caved. I informed her I’d be at her place in an hour. I had to take a shower and walk to mom’s house and pick up the car.

I ARRIVED at the Laguna Sunrise Apartments with a savage thirst. Little superheroes, princesses, pirates, ghosts and assorted ghouls scampered about like psych-ward escapees all through the parking lot. They bolted here and there, scurried up and down stairs, banging on doors, gasping with glee at their bulging bags of booty. Halloween was alive and well. I mashed the horn to alert Monica of my arrival.

The trio emerged from Monica’s upstairs apartment, all decked out in black clothes. Aside from that, her friends seemed normal enough.

Justin was a tall, pipe cleaner of a guy, maybe a couple years younger than I, with a shaved head and an eyebrow hoop. The courageous beginnings of a peach fuzz moustache sprouted proudly on an otherwise smooth and blemish-free face. He held a huge pitcher of green liquid in one hand. His other hand was out of sight, buried deep in the pocket of his trench coat.

The girl was beautiful.

As she descended the murky stairwell to the sidewalk in front of my mom’s car, she ran her hands through the unruly chestnut mane flowing in corkscrew curls around her shoulders. She had a figure for which bikinis had been invented. Better still, forget the bikini.

I had no reason to think it, didn’t even know the girl’s name, but I instantly intuited she deserved so much more than the dude with which she’d arrived.

Monica got in next to me on the passenger side, as Justin and his cute girlfriend piled into the backseat, a poof of dust erupting from the commotion. They were all smiles.

Once they all settled in and my sister had given me her customary bear hug, Justin hoisted the gigantic, alcohol-filled pitcher in my direction. I took it and drank deeply, the tangy vodka burning a trail down my throat, warmth filling my stomach. It burned uncomfortably at first before spreading pleasantly throughout my body in a sudden numbing release.

“Jesus.” I wheezed. “That’s potent. What the hell is it?”

“Screaming Greenies,” Justin chuckled and took back his pitcher, slugging it back and chugging like it was his first drink in a week.

“And what’s in it besides vodka?” I asked.

“Family secret, man. Sorry. Still, enjoy the hell out of it, though.”

“I’ll do that.”

My sister usually possessed a frenetic energy which never failed to infect any room that she entered. She was always the life of the party. Something was wrong with her that night, though. She just sat there with her hands folded in her lap.

“Everything all right?” I asked her.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll be okay. I just miss him, you know.”

“You and Darryl went out for a few weeks and, correct me if I’m wrong here, you were the one that broke up with him.”

A smile lit up her face. “Yeah. You know what? You’re right. Fuck that asshole!”

“That’s the spirit!”

I was feeling pumped up. This night was going to be just what I needed.

Justin and his girlfriend joined in, shouting “Fuck that asshole!” in unison. I had nearly forgotten they were back there.

Then Justin was all over the girl, hands roaming, mouth plastering her with sloppy kisses. Monica turned in her seat and made an exaggerated gagging sound. “Why don’t you two get a room already? Fuck!” She turned back around and twirled her hand in my direction, the universal gesture for ‘get moving already.’

“You going to be all right?”

“Yeah. Now let’s go see a fucking ghost.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends first?”

At that, Justin leaned forward and offered his hand. “Name’s Justin.” I offered my own hand, which he promptly grabbed and pumped furiously, jostling me a little in my seat.

Then my other ear was caressed by the silky voice of the girlfriend. Justin’s girlfriend offered a hand with fingernails of black. I took it hesitantly, as if to touch her might result in an electric shock. “I’m Cassie.” Her voice was melodious, silky.

Cassie withdrew her hand and faded back into her seat in the shadows.

“So, it’s a ghost hunt you’re wanting, huh?” I asked, buckling my seatbelt.

“Hell, yeah!” Justin shouted.

Cassie nodded, though she did not appear enthusiastic about it.

I put the ’88 Cutlass Sierra in gear and drove out of the Laguna Sunrise Apartments, weaving around the droves of miniature, sugar-dazed zombies and witches who haunted the parking lot.

It was an hour long drive from Monica’s place in Orange Park to Greenbriar Road in Mandarin.

I’d never been to Ghost Light Road before, but everyone knew the legend.

It was said that a young soldier, stationed at the base after World War II ended, used to ride his motorcycle down that ribbon of dirt at lethal speeds any chance that came his way. After living in Fruit Cove for a year or so, he met a girl, fell madly in love, and they were soon married.

In no time at all, the young bride was pregnant, and the proud father-to-be vowed to cut back on cigarettes and coffee and take better care of himself. But the one thing he couldn’t live without was his need for speed.

One night, while working a graveyard shift on the base, he received a message informing him that his wife had been transported to the hospital by ambulance, and there was something wrong with the baby.

The soldier screamed out of the parking lot like a banshee, his bike’s tires kicking up angry dust plumes. In his fevered state, he lost control of the bike and was decapitated in a gruesome accident.

The spectral light reported by those who venture there in the dead of night is allegedly the headlight beam of the phantom motorcycle ridden by the lovesick soldier doomed to eternally search for his missing head.

Monica had been there several times before and she claimed at least twenty people had vanished while visiting in as many years.

For the record, I had never believed any of it.

The sign for Greenbriar Road swam into my increasingly blurred field of vision. I made the left turn and headed down into suffocating darkness.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I wasn’t surprised to see Justin’s hand fumbling under Cassie’s shirt, trying to unclasp her bra. Monica remained silent next to me. I might as well have been alone in the car.

The pines and shrubs swallowed the light of the moon, and the streetlights disappeared in the rising plume of dust we left in our wake. Asphalt gave way to sand.

A tree appeared out of nowhere. I had to slam on the brakes to avoid slamming into it, rocking everyone in their seats.

I cleared my throat and announced “We have arrived!”

Monica sat captivated, staring out the window, intensely focused on the scrub and palmetto bushes which loomed overhead. She’d always enjoyed exploring haunted places. I wasn’t that into it, but I was feeling adventurous.

“All right!” shouted Justin. “Cassie, are you ready to get your pants scared off?”

“You already did a pretty good job loosening them up for me, stud,” she said. I thought I heard a sarcastic edge in her tone. I liked it. She wasn’t all that into lover boy, after all.

She seemed pretty sober. I, on the other hand, had a Herculean buzz, and realized, belatedly, that I had been ogling Cassie.

Then again, she wasn’t complaining.

“Hey, Bill, stare much?” Justin said, noticing our momentary connection.

“Good idea, Justin. Hand me that pitcher. I’m parched.”

Justin proffered the cocktail willingly enough, and I was appalled to see the big container was still two-thirds of the way full. Bunch of lightweights, I thought, as I guzzled down at least a pint.

“Damn, dude. Thirsty much?” Justin reached over the back of the seat for the pitcher.

Monica looked over at me, grinning slyly. “You just drank more mushrooms than anyone I’ve ever known.”

She started giggling, and so did the two in the back seat.

I almost shat myself. I didn’t do drugs anymore. I had dabbled in a little pot here and there, dropped acid only a few times. But downing a pint of psychedelic mushroom punch was something I wouldn’t have done even in my wildest days. My throat constricted and my palms grew wet.

“You motherfuckers!” I shouted, while everyone had a laugh at my expense. I thought Justin might choke to death.

“She’s just kidding, man. Chill out,” he said. He reached out and laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

Monica smirked.

“Relax bro. I was having some fun with you. That’s all.”

I was pissed, but when I realized they were joking, I was relieved that I hadn’t been dosed after all. Still, it was a dirty prank and one that soured my mood considerably. I really wanted to turn the car around, head right back to Monica’s place and throw all three of the jokers out on their giggling asses.

Instead, I sucked it up and proceeded down the narrow dirt lane. At the end of Greenbriar, the road curved and we headed north into the suburbs. I decided to turn around and go back and take one more pass before heading home.

My sister was on the edge of her seat and, to my delight, Cassie and Justin had retreated to their respective seats. I was starting to feel like I should have stayed home, when Monica jumped in her seat, jabbing her finger at the window. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes grew wide with excitement.

“I saw it, Billy. I saw it! Go back! Go back!” She beat her fists in a rapid staccato on the dashboard.

“Hey!” I yelled, startled by her sudden outburst. “Stop doing that! What the hell is the matter with you?”

I slowed the car to a crawl and waited for her to reply. “Billy, I saw the light.” She looked absolutely giddy with excitement. “I was looking out the window, and I saw a side road back there. There was a big light shining right in the middle of the sky! Turn around and go back, please.”

She was very convincing. Even though I was sure she’d seen nothing more supernatural than the full moon, my heart thumped a double-time rhythm

“Everybody, keep an eye out for a spot to turn this sucker around,” I said.

I turned off Greenbriar, driving slowly onto the unnamed side road. It looked treacherous. At least the main drag was hard packed and unlikely to be the source of any kind of trouble for my mom’s car. This new road was little more than an overgrown wagon trail—deep sand ruts with a strip of weeds growing wild up the middle. The darkness swallowed my headlights before the terrain ahead could be revealed.

I flipped on the high beams, and in their glare the road seemed to go on forever. I glanced at Monica. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, eyes fiery with anticipation.

Cassie and Justin strained for a glimpse of Monica’s amazing light, but there was nothing to see. It was only a dirt lane stretching through the middle of bum-fucked-hell, a great place to hit a deer, or maybe to get hacked to death by a deranged lunatic.

With that thought, I turned my attention back to the narrow dirt lane ahead. A sign made of plywood planks floated into view, the words HOLY GHOST DELIVER US ominously scrawled upon it in crimson.

I drove a mile or so further, and there was still no sign of any hovering light. Justin passed the pitcher of Screamin’ Meanies up to me. Just as I turned the bottle up to chug with the fervor of a shipwrecked man discovering a bottle of spring water washed up on the beach, the car went over a bumpy patch, sending the liquid down the wrong pipe. I gagged, my lungs suddenly struggling for air. I hit the brakes, afraid of crashing into a tree.

As I coughed, Monica dealt several whopping blows to my back, telling me to lift my arms over my head. I opened the door and stumbled from the car, hacking out my lungs. I raised my hands and the urge to clear my airways subsided dramatically. I felt hollowed out, yet delighted to be alive.

I grinned at my sister. “That really worked, sis. Thanks.”

She smiled smugly over the roof of the car at me. “Trust your baby sister, man. When have I ever been wrong?”

Gales of laughter erupted from the back seat and Cassie and Justin clambered out of the car to join us.

I figured it was good for all of us to get out and stretch our legs. I noticed the temperature had dropped and it appeared everyone else did, too. The girls shivered and Justin hugged himself, struggling to maintain a tough guy attitude.

I was officially over the whole mess. I gazed at my passengers and, after a dramatic pause, declared I was going to drive until I found a place to turn around. Then we were going home.

When that statement was met by a stony quiet, I suggested going back to Monica’s place to watch horror movies.

“I think that’s a great idea, Bill,” Cassie chimed in. “I never wanted to come out here in the first place.”

Justin stared knives at Cassie, but she had adopted a defiant stance, hip thrust out, arms crossed over her ample bosom in a what the fuck are you looking at, asshole? pose.

I had made up my mind and, when I had too much liquor, it was impossible to negotiate with me.

Monica looked like she was about to cry.

“Don’t even start, Monica. No one else saw it, and I’m not driving around all night looking. From what I hear, most people don’t see the light anyway, or they’re never heard from again.”

I instructed everyone to get back in the car. I was reluctant to head any further down the road, but with nowhere to turn around, there were no other options.

At first, I was confused when the car didn’t go forward as I applied pressure to the accelerator. The engine howled like a wounded beast, but we made no forward progress.

I thought maybe I’d accidentally shifted into neutral, so I toggled the gearshift into park, then back into drive again. I pushed down hard on the gas pedal, the engine revved loudly, but the car did not budge.

My nerves tingled and all of a sudden there wasn’t enough air in the car. I pushed down on the accelerator again and the Cutlass lunged, but the momentum wasn’t enough to free the rear tires from the sand. I dropped the transmission into reverse and gunned the engine again, exerting pressure more slowly this time. I hoped that if I alternated between reverse and drive a few times I’d rock us out, but my efforts proved futile. The Cutlass didn’t have much in the way of power, and the balding tires were unable to gain any traction. I was probably getting us stuck even worse.

Frustrated, I reached back and grabbed Justin’s pitcher, ripped it from his hands and guzzled another hearty swallow of his toxic creation.

Justin bristled at me. “Hey,” he shouted.

“Listen, man, you are forbidden from complaining about me imbibing your liquor.” I pointed a slightly trembling finger in his face and grimaced as the alcohol burned my esophagus. “It’s what got me into this mess in the first place. I will not be denied its anger-quenching powers. And you should be happy that there’s some left, because right now I’m pretty pissed.”

Justin stared defiantly back at me.

For a moment I was sure he was going to bite off my finger, but it quickly passed.

“Well, can I at least have some of my liquor, there, Bill?” I was not fond of his sarcasm, but I was happy he was not getting bent out of shape.

Curiously, behind his indignant façade, Justin looked like a rabbit in a trap.

I’m normally a laid-back fellow, and seldom act on cruel impulses, but I found myself overcome with the urge to assert my dominance and freak the fucker out.

With a dramatic sweep of my arm, and a menacing grin, I killed the engine and turned off the headlights, plunging us into utter darkness.

The car was suddenly charged with alarmed cries and angry shouts of disapproval. I rejoiced in the blackness for a minute and then switched the lights on again.

I glanced over at Monica (unable to hide my shit-eating grin) just in time to see her bony fist flying straight at my face. I jerked my head to the left, banging one shoulder on the steering wheel and absorbing the force of her blow with the other. The jab stung but did little damage.

“Get us out of here, man. Stop fucking around.” Justin called from behind me. I looked back to see him pressed so far into the corner of the backseat, it looked like the car was eating him alive.

I had to get out of there. I had to do something.

Outside in the chill October night again, I shone the flashlight beam at the half-buried tires, dismayed at the depth of our troubles.

I stalked around to Justin’s side and yanked open the door a little too roughly, dismayed when the bottom of the door scraped sand. I pointed the flashlight beam in Justin’s face and said, “If you want to get out of here, come with me.”

“All right, dude. I hope you have some kind of plan to get us out of here.”

I sighed. “And if I don’t, Justin?”

He shrugged, looked down at his shoes.

“Are you going to help me take care of this problem, or what?”

His expression darkened, but he didn’t mutter a word or make eye contact.

He mumbled something incoherent.

“You’re being a pussy, Justin. I need you to man up and help me get the car out of here. I’m not about to let you sit in the car and feel sorry for yourself while I do this by myself. Not gonna happen.”

His face was hidden in the darkness, but I sensed his overall discomfort. “You’re right, Bill. I need to be a man. But,” he paused, compiling his thoughts for a moment before continuing, “aren’t you a little nervous out here? I mean, I know you don’t believe in the ghost light and all that, but out here anything could happen. I’m creeped out, dude.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I flipped on the flashlight and returned to the trunk to grab the plywood and garden spade my dad had stowed in there for just this type of situation. We lived on a dirt road, and there was always the potential. In fact, it had happened to us before, and Dad vowed that he’d never be ass-raped by a towing service again, determined to simply use some basic lumber like his dad had shown him when he was a kid. The trick was to dig the sand out around the rear tires to make enough room to wedge the plywood planks under the bottoms of the tires. That was what we were going to do now—what we needed was traction.

We went at it like madmen, but even after an eternity of digging, hands caked with sweat and muck, crisscrossed with scrapes and gashes, we had made no progress.

By then, I realized we were going to have to move on to Plan B. I didn’t want to leave mom’s car abandoned in the middle of nowhere to be plundered by whoever might come across it. But, although there might be some traffic on Greenbriar on Halloween, the odds were narrow someone would come along this road in the dead of the night and help us out.

Even though I trusted my sister with mom’s car, I was loath to leave the car and go looking for help by myself. But I had to go. Otherwise, we’d sit and rot.

We all sat in the car again, passing the diminished jug of booze around. Monica turned the heater on to dispel the accumulating chill.

I said. “I’m going for help.”

Monica was pleased. “I was kind of hoping you were going to say that, bro.”

I nodded, feeling less than enthusiastic. “You guys stay here and wait for me to get back.”

Justin piped up. “You gonna go strolling down some dark backwoods dirt road lookin’ for help, dude by yourself. Dude, you got balls.”

I grimaced. I wanted to hit the guy so bad.

“Take the flashlight and don’t go too far, Billy.” Monica said. “If you walk more than twenty or thirty minutes and don’t find anyone, come back.”

“Sounds good.”

Unceremoniously, I exited the car. I really hated going alone, but I did not see any other solution.

“Go with him, you fucking weenie.” Cassie snarled at Justin.

“What the fuck did you say, Cassie?”

She stared down the gutless wonder, disdain etched upon her face. “Get out and go the hell with him. Why are you so scared?”

“I ain’t scared,” he said, “just not stupid. If it’s that big a deal, why don’t you go with him?”

Cassie bowed up like a cobra, ready to inject her deadly venom into Justin’s eyes. But she eased back after a few tense seconds. Then, to my surprise, she got out of the car and told me she was coming with me.

After the meltdown between the lovebirds, I half expected Justin to get possessive and start shit with me for taking his girlfriend with me. He did nothing, though. The way I saw it, I had a better chance of gaining sympathy with a cute, young girl by my side anyway, so this was a great turn of events.

I told Monica to keep the lights and engine off as much as possible. The last thing we needed was a dead battery. She swore to take good care of the car and begged me to hurry back.

“I will. Please don’t let anybody in the car until I get back. I don’t care what they say. If they say they want to help, keep the doors locked and the windows up and point them in my direction. Got it?”

She nodded. I thought I saw tears shimmering in her eyes. I reached through the window and took her hand, hoping to reassure her.

“We’ll be back soon.”

I motioned for Cassie to join me and we began trudging through the sand. I turned the flashlight on and we followed its bouncing beam into the darkness.

“Hurry up, and be careful. And no fooling around” Monica yelled, as Cassie and I found our stride. I winced when a sand flea bit my ankle. Bullfrog croaks filled the night.

Monica flashed the high beams a couple of times from far behind us, but then we turned a bend and all signs of mom’s car, and my sister, were swallowed up by the woods.

Cassie caught me off guard, slipping her hand into mine and gently squeezing it.

“You okay?” I asked. Her hand was warm and comforting. I didn’t mind holding it one bit.

She nodded and a slight hint of a smile danced over her lips.

I knew it was a long shot, but I hoped we’d find a friendly house where we wouldn’t get shot for knocking on the door at this hour. I wanted to remain as positive as possible about the likelihood of that happening, though the chances of getting help out here were miniscule to nil, and I knew it.

Whether out of pure boredom or the need to push back fear of things that go bump in the night, Cassie and I engaged in sporadic bursts of stilted conversation. We hit it off okay, despite the depressing circumstances. I’d much rather have met her under more romantic circumstances, but this would have to do.

She brought up astrology and asked my sign, which I thought was rather cliché, but I wasn’t about to say that. I told her I was a Gemini, and she revealed she was a Pisces. She loved horror movies and karaoke. I told her I was more of a long walk on the beach in the moonlight kind of guy.

We both laughed at that for a second. She got my joke, which was a rare event for me. I probably glowed.

As we walked deeper into the woods, the wildlife sounds grew louder and more frenzied. For a while we played “name that creepy sound,” but that quickly grew tiresome as neither of us could figure any of them out. It was almost as though the animals knew it was Halloween, and they were messing with us. Cassie’s grip on my hand grew tighter with each terrifying shriek and howl.

I aimed the beam of the flashlight along the ground, doing my best to maintain a vigilant lookout for snakes and alligators. Mosquitoes swarmed as if I was the hot new restaurant in their neighborhood.

After what seemed like miles, we came upon our first sign of civilization. A couple of ancient, swaybacked houses squatted on opposite sides of the road. A large, modern-looking building sat just past the house on our side of the dirt.

There was an intersection just ahead, but no street signs announced our location. Several bright flood lights shone here, illuminating piles of discarded appliances, haphazardly strewn heaps of undetermined junk, and the skeletal remains of a couple rusted out trucks, overgrown with weeds and creeper vines. I’d have assumed the houses were abandoned if not for the sallow glow of a lamp inside a window.

The larger building was set back further from the road than the others. Its double-doors were propped open, a milky luminescence spilling through them onto a weed-covered concrete slab. Faint sounds emanated from inside the warm looking hall that stretched back into the building’s guts.

As we marched out of the dark wilderness that had all but strangled out the road about a half a mile back, the night grew eerily quiet. My chattering teeth provided the only noise.

If the larger building out back was a garage, then there was a real possibility that a tow truck was on the premises—hopefully in better condition than the truck corpses on the front lawn.

Cassie let go of my hand. I mourned the loss of the bond we’d shared, no matter how brief.

“Why do you think it got so quiet, Bill?” She looked nervous.

I shrugged.

I have never been one to spook easily, but the sudden shift into silence was rather ominous. I spotted a log sturdy enough to hold us comfortably and motioned for Cassie to join me.

“Let’s rest for a few minutes. I need to catch my breath.”

“I don’t like this place at all. It smells like death,” she said as we sat. She reached across the gap between us and raised her hand to the side of my face, lightly caressing my sweaty skin with her fingertips. “Let’s go, please. If we stay, something bad is going to happen. I can feel it.”

I sighed. Her soft touch raised gooseflesh all over me, stirring a feeling inside that had been simmering since I first laid eyes on her. I removed Cassie’s hand from my face, though it was the last thing I wanted to do, and held it in both of mine. She looked into my eyes and appeared to be searching for something reassuring there.

She blinked a tear out of her eye and wiped it away with the back of her hand, looking defeated as she chewed at her lower lip, looking past me with fear in her eyes at the one place that might bring help.

“So, what are you doing with a guy like Justin?” I blurted, immediately wishing I was able to retract my words.

Her mouth dropped open in disbelief, but bent upward into a genuine smile next. “Justin isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Then what was all that hot and heavy petting about?”

“Okay, we dated for a while off and on, and he was sweet at first, but after I had sex with him, he did a one-eighty and showed his true colors.”

I stared at her, expecting something a little more elucidating.

She grinned with no trace of humor and said, “That prick can take a flying fuck at a rolling donut, for all I care.”

It was her turn to switch subjects. “Bill, can we just keep going? I really am getting bad vibes from this place.”

I was at a loss for a solution. I felt the need to comfort her, but I was responsible for getting everybody home, and the sooner I did, the better. I had to stop thinking with my dick.

“It’s going to be all right, Cassie.” I put my arm around her and pulled her closer to me, intending to ease her troubled mind. Before I knew what was happening, her lips had found mine. After a few seconds, she maneuvered one of my hands to her breast, and I found that it was as firm and springy as I had imagined. Incredible. I wanted to ravage her right there on the ground, tangled in the weeds and dirt, but I stopped myself.

It wasn’t easy.

“Cassie, I love this and don’t want to stop, but we have to get help.” I pulled myself from her embrace, put on my best smile, and stood up, holding out my hands. She took them, reluctantly, and allowed me to pull her up into my arms.

“I’m pretty sure I heard somebody moving around in that big building.”

Cassie composed herself, and to my surprise, she smiled, too. Her face flushed with excitement. “I feel better now, anyway. I thought you were going to ravage me on the ground there for a minute, Bill.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I winked.

She punched my shoulder playfully.

“I’m sure we won’t run into any trouble here.” I whispered. “I brought you out here, and I’m going to get you home in one piece. Okay? And then, later, who knows what we’ll get into.”

“I’m going to take you up on that. I still don’t want to knock on that door, though. This place is giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

I knew it went against every fiber in her being, following me to a place for which she felt such a crippling dread, but she put her feet into motion and we walked across the trashy front lawn towards the house on the left.

I, too, was nagged by irrational fear as we neared the building. Would anyone even come to the door?

Although I have never claimed to be a man of faith, I’m confident that even the most dyed-in-the-wool atheist has at some time been a witness to a miracle. Almost everyone gets a chance to experience the joy of finding hope where none existed previously. Well, that was my feeling as we rounded the corner of the house on the right and almost walked right into the front end of a big Ford tow truck.

Cassie and I looked at each other in wonder. I had to brace myself as she leapt into my arms, nearly toppling us both to the ground. She wrapped me up in a celebratory embrace and squeezed me with a fury I simply could not have anticipated, and for a moment I was sure one of my ribs would crack if she didn’t release me.

I wasn’t really all that surprised that someone living this far out in the country would have a tow truck. So many dirt roads crisscrossed the marshy land, bogged down vehicles must be as common as seagull shit is on the beach in this neck of the woods.

Cassie straightened her tank top, which had gotten twisted around somewhat during our brief but triumphant merging. I couldn’t keep myself from watching her breasts jiggle as she adjusted the fabric to accommodate their fullness once more.

Just then, a pair of bright lights reflected off the lawn between the two houses, and then we heard the unmistakable sound of a car door slam around back.

I took off through the night towards the noise, Cassie following close alongside me. I must have gotten a good head start on her, because soon, I no longer heard her labored breathing beside me. I heard a rustling of limbs and leaves, followed by a surprised grunt.

I whipped around to see what had happened, thinking that maybe Cassie had tripped on a root and taken a tumble. There was nothing but the empty lawn and silent trees, the barely discernible yellow strip of dirt road, the sweltering air filled with the buzz of bloodthirsty insects.

No Cassie.

Panic welled up inside me.

I felt terribly exposed and small, standing there bathed in the flood lights. The buildings loomed over me. My clothes were soaked with sweat. I had to get the fuck out of there, but refused to leave Cassie behind.

I screwed up my courage and strode toward the door, mentally preparing myself for trouble, wishing I had some kind of weapon. The flashlight was something, I supposed. I could use it to bludgeon an attacker once, twice at most before it would shatter into useless shards of plastic. Those two blows might mean the difference between life and death. My hand clenched the handle so tightly spasms of pain flowed through my forearms in time with my racing pulse.

Strange carnival music suddenly filtered out into the night, bizarre swirls of kazoos, tambourines and calliopes.

I wiped my sweaty face with my shirt, and stepped inside.

The hall was larger than it appeared from outside, about as wide as a two-car garage and maybe a hundred feet long. Several doors lined each wall. Clipboards hung from little hooks on each door.

I thought that maybe it was some type of medical facility, but it lacked the stark clinical ambience and there was no stench of disinfectant. No, the odors were much different. My nostrils detected everything from burning bacon to popcorn to spoiled meat and decomposing piles of dog shit. I breathed through my mouth, but that didn’t do much good.

Peeking through the opened doorways, I saw beds with blankets depicting cartoon characters. One of the rooms had a little kid-sized desk, complete with a coloring book opened to a page where a picture was currently in progress. There were stuffed animals lining the foot and the head of the bed.

In another room, there was more of the same, along with some random sketches on drawing paper hanging from the walls.

An orphanage, perhaps? If so, where were the children? And why was the place wide open in the middle of the night?

I found my eyes being drawn back to the crude sketches, but I wasn’t sure why.

Then it hit me.

There was a common disturbing thread running through the images. All depicted sadistic acts, brutal murders, blood and gore—depraved stuff, indeed.

The end of the hall arrived without finding anyone, each room as empty as the one before. At the end of the hallway stood a closed door, the music growing louder as I approached, a bright light shining out from underneath the crack.

I suppressed my fear and pulled the knob towards me.

The room was larger than the others, walls painted turquoise and eggshell, adorned with hand-drawn pictures of clouds and angels and puppies involved in yet more atrocious situations. A 1920’s era Victrola phonograph sat in one corner, black horn jutting out toward the center of the room, playing tinny carnival music. I cautiously walked towards the corner where it sat in its wooden cabinet.

Someone coughed.

I was jolted from my random thoughts. I’d been so completely transfixed by the phonograph, I hadn’t even noticed the man sitting on other side of the room.

He appeared to be in his sixties. A thick white beard hung almost to his lap. He sat in a chair that looked like it was intended for a child in a preschool class. He wore bibbed overalls and black waders. If he’d been wearing a red ball cap and a more cheerful expression, he’d have been the spitting image of Uncle Jesse from the Dukes of Hazard.

His face was made of wrinkled gashes, with a frown so severe that it looked as if it had been cut into his face with a scalpel by a madman. His bushy white eyebrows met in the middle, and he sported a crown of flowing white hair slicked back with pomade.

His arms hung down by his sides, but muscles and tendons rippled and bulged under his skin. In his right hand he clutched a wicked Bowie knife, razor-sharp and serrated like a row of alligator teeth, at least a foot long.

He stared at me with beady black eyes and said, “Well, then. I reckon you must be Billy.”

When the sound of my name left the old man’s mouth, it felt like a flaming arrow had passed through my skull. With the exception of Monica and my mom, no one had called me Billy since high school, when I had shed the ‘y’ in a sensible attempt at appearing grown up.

I was just beginning to wrap my brain around the fact that this guy must have had my sister and Justin, when he spoke.

“Say hello to the kids, Billy,” he said.

I came to grips with the fact that Uncle Jesse presented a serious threat, one I was ill-prepared to handle. The guy was scary enough looking, but that knife had my attention.

With a nod of his head, he motioned for me to turn around. I instinctively looked, and for a moment I forgot all about that knife.

There were children here all right. There had to be at least a dozen of them. Why I hadn’t noticed them before was beyond me.

They were a ragtag troupe of misfits that looked as though they’d been transplanted from another era, the Great Depression, perhaps. They were filthy, every inch of exposed skin coated with a filmy black residue.

A blonde girl of six years old or thereabouts, wearing a dress that looked like it had once been a potato sack, stared at me from the back of the room. To her left, beside a drawing table, was a slightly taller boy—maybe ten years old—in a bowler hat, wearing a tweed coat and slacks. His face, too, was coated with black soot, like a pint-sized chimney sweep.

Some of the youngsters were almost my size, but the majority of them were small children. All of them were scrawny and underfed.

Each possessed the exact same cold, vacant stare. No smiles, no twinkling baby blues to melt a mother’s heart. Not these eyes. These eyes were the kind you saw in the mug shots of serial killers, or in pictures of sharks taken with underwater cameras: no emotion, yet conveying knowledge of something more sinister at work behind the curtain.

After surveying the children, I settled my gaze upon Uncle Jesse and his knife again. Especially his knife—I was keeping an eye on that bitch.

I hadn’t yet said a word, deciding silence was my only asset in this standoff. If I kept my cards close and tight, maybe he’d slip up, give me an out.

First, I needed him to give up the locations of my sister, Cassie and Justin.

As if spying on my thoughts, the old man said “Lookin’ for them friends of yours, aintcha Billy?”

He struggled up out of the baby chair and onto his feet, rising to an imposing height. He was at least a foot taller than me, barrel-chested, muscled all to hell for an old man. I looked down on the yellow flashlight that still dangled from my fingertips, and realized I needed a real weapon. I was already imagining that sinister blade opening me like a fish, the looping grey coils of my intestines sliding out of the gaping breach of my flesh.

Maybe if I outran him? Maybe, if he chased me, he’d have a heart attack and drop dead?

There was still a major flaw in my plan: what if there were others outside waiting to scoop me up in the darkness?

Uncle Jesse remained standing by his chair, making no move for me. For the moment he appeared to lack interest in his big fucking knife, thank goodness.

He roared at me again. “Cat got your tongue, boy? You lookin’ for that sweet young snatch you was tryin’ to pry open out there on my log out yonder, aintcha?”

“I am looking for a girl. She disappeared right in front of me in your front yard.” I couldn’t believe I found the nerve to speak to the giant.

Uncle Jesse watched me, a twinkle in his eye that said ‘Yeah, go on, buddy. Get it out of your system you little piece of shit.’

“You thought you was just gonna coerce some cute little apple of her daddy’s eye into servin’ up some ass if you got her all scared drivin’ on down the ole haunted road, didn’t you?”

I had no answer for him.

“Well, looks like that ain’t happenin,’ is it? The only way you’re getting’ laid is if it’s in a hole in the ground. You got that? Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention, I picked up your sister and her friend, too. That boy and girl jumped into my truck like it was Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve. You’d have died if you had seen the sweet smiles on those two, Billy.”

The fingers of his knife hand danced along the handle in a hypnotic pattern.

I wasn’t going to show fear, or at least that was the plan. Not an easy act to pull off when there’s a burly maniac with a sword-like knife threatening your life. And I had no idea what to make of the bizarre children. They still merely observed me with chilling detachment.

I was becoming increasingly desperate, so I began to ramble.

“We only came here to find some help. My car is stuck in some deep sand. I saw your tow truck out by the house and figured you could help us out. If you can’t, please tell me where the others are, so we can get on our way. Then you can forget we were ever here.” I couldn’t my voice from trembling as I spoke.

His eyes ignited with brilliant blue sparks, the vein tracing a line down the side of his forehead bulged and shrank, expanded and contracted, like a serpent pulsing and breathing beneath his skin. He turned toward the children and motioned at me with the knife.

I backpedaled, nearly losing my balance, but managed to stay upright.

“Oh, I know! He come to Ghost Light Road lookin’ for action! The ghost ain’t nothin’ but a pretense for you, and your real motives ain’t so pure and righteous.”

He faced me again, crossing his arms over his chest. “You came here to get some pussy, and you used the ghost story as a means to an end. That’s touching to me. It’s just bloody invigorating to see that tired old formula still has drawin’ power. But you got it all wrong. You done waded out into moccasin-infested waters, you did. Now that you’re here, you and me and these here rug rats are gonna go out for some good ole fashioned trick-or-treatin’. If you’re good about it, and I mean you better be a fuckin’ angel, you get to go home and live happily ever after. The End.”

He punctuated the last words with two jabs of his knife in my direction.

“Where are they? How do I know they’re safe?” I asked, afraid but still determined not to show weakness to my adversary.

“Well, ain’t you got all kinds of demands? I don’t believe I ever said any of you was safe. Did I?” He looked up, as if deep in thought, rolling his fingertips across his jaw. “Don’t you worry about a thing,” he snorted.

As he spoke these words, an electric current rippled through the dirty kids, while his barbed voice penetrated my mind. I crumbled to my knees, unable to fight the pain exploding through my head. Uncle Jesse let out a whooping laugh, and the children’s eyes lit up with the blue sparks.

“Well, it is Halloween, Billy. And the kids will trick-or-treat. That’s our tradition round here . . . among others. Now get movin’, the way you come in. Ain’t no time to be wastin’.” He came forward, and so did the children, all of them moving eerily as one.

Outside, the night air was thick like fifteen bean soup, and under the oaken canopy, the darkness felt eternal. The flood lights that had drawn us here in the first place were now extinguished, and it was nearly impossible to see the houses and cars and tree trunks that had been so well illuminated before.

Uncle Jesse—he would forever ruin the elder Duke in my mind—herded me onto the lawn in front, waiting for the children to assemble.

“Gather round, children!” he cried. An unbidden image of him dressed in a Santa suit popped into my mind. This demented family celebrating Christmas was something I did not care to imagine.

The children crammed together, expressions unchanged since I first saw them inside.

“It’s that time of year again, kids! Who’s ready for some delicious treats?” He let the last word carry out for a full three seconds, determined to whip the kids into a frenzy of unbridled sugar lust.

I thought for sure they’d start screaming and shouting for joy. But they simply stared at me. Once again, I saw a flash of blue light flicker through those flat, lifeless eyes.

Uncle Jesse beamed with delight.

“All right, they’re ready to have some treats, Billy.”

For a moment nothing happened. And then, as one, the children murmured, “Trick or treat.”

It wasn’t very enthusiastic.

I had been under the impression the kids really liked this event, so the big moment was a bit anticlimactic for me.

Then one of the kids, potato sack girl, began to undulate side to side, causing a chain reaction. All the others followed suit as if a puff of wind had stirred a wheat field into motion.

And then Uncle Jesse had his arm around my shoulders in a paternal manner, which I found extremely uncomfortable. “They’re cute, aren’t they?”

I was pretty sure this was a rhetorical question and did not respond. The kids looked as if they were going to keep doing the wave all night.

A soft tremor thrummed through the soles of my shoes. What started as a tingle in my feet moved up through my body, growing as it went until it felt as if the fillings in my teeth might rattle loose from their enamel moorings. A buzzing pain settled in at the base of my brain, like a swarm of wasps had made a nest there.

The ground trembled beneath the children. Just when I was certain the world would split open and swallow them all—as it very well should have, if there truly is a God—the horror show commenced.

The children stopped swaying and began to change.

First, their hair and clothing melted away, sluicing off like dirt washed away under a spigot. Then, incredibly, they started growing. There was a loud cracking of bones, snapping of tendons, and the rending of flesh.

Then came the screams.

I thought at first I was witnessing cries of agony, but soon realized, to my utter terror, that these were screams of delight. The howls and shrieks tore through the night, resounding until I was certain I’d go mad.

Or perhaps that had already happened?

I couldn’t be sure.

Finally, the horrifying wails died down only to ascend again, this time in the form of cries of hunger. They were growing, shedding their orphan kid costumes to reveal their true nature.

They were mutated beyond recognition, all of them now standing six to seven feet tall. Their features were like melted wax, dripping from misshapen skulls over faces nearly devoid of human characteristics. A couple of them had normal-looking eyes, but only a few. They had canine jaws that overflowed with razor teeth, massive arms that ended in six-inch-long black talons.

A stillness swept through the frenetic activity among the creatures. They all faced front, intent on the front door of the house. One by one, they lifted their grotesque appendages in an obscene parody of suburban trick-or-treating.

The door to the house behind Uncle Jesse banged open, and a figure came stumbling out onto the dark porch, as if they had been pushed.

It was a man.

Justin.

Justin staggered drunkenly across the porch, barely able to stay upright. A bewildered look crossed his bleary features as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The door to the house slammed behind him, a loud snick as the deadbolt slid into place.

“Hey, what the fuck, man?” he protested, and then he looked at me, squinting, recognition slowly dawning in his eyes. “Well, look what the fucking cat dragged in. Dude, you’ll never believe it, but I found the . . . ”

His mouth stopped moving, hanging open as if his jaw had come unhinged. He finally noticed the sheer terror in my expression, slowly turning to look at the crowd on the front lawn.

The creatures let out an ear-splitting roar and charged the steps so fast that I barely had a chance to leap out of the way as they charged past me up onto the porch. A cloud of dust rose into the night air, swirling motes dancing and twirling to new destinations.

“Bill?” Justin called out nervously, barely audible over the din, the tone of his voice projected profound disorientation, but the look in his eyes told a different story. The haunted stare in those eyes said death was coming, and it was going to be bad.

And then they were on him.

“BILL! BILL! BIIIIIIIIIL!” Justin screamed.

The commotion around Justin’s flailing body was intense. I’d never seen a person get torn to shreds before, much less with such brutality. I know I’d gotten off on the wrong foot with the guy, but I never envisioned his life being ripped away in such a horrific fashion.

The air reeked of feces and blood as the beasts had their primal way with him, teeth and claws making fast, frenzied work of it as they fought and snarled and thrashed over Justin’s juicy parts. Before long, his screams of terror and anguish escalated until they no longer resembled anything human.

When I didn’t think I could take the soul-rending sounds of Justin’s horrifying death any longer, when I thought madness would sweep me away from this nightmare, I heard one last hoarse shriek which ended abruptly in a wet, gurgling croak.

I knew Justin was finally gone and I felt relief for him.

The chewing continued for another five minutes until the final scrap of Justin’s steaming carcass–a twelve inch strip of flesh pelted with hair—was speared by one of those diabolical claws and deposited into an enormous gaping razor-filled mouth.

One by one in a single-file line, the creatures marched past me, bright cobalt eyes flickering with satisfaction.

I didn’t even realize I was screaming until Uncle Jesse shoved me face-first into the dirt to shut me up, quickly followed by a swift kick. Sharp pain scissored across my ribcage.

Uncle Jesse pulled me back up to my feet, his fingers entwined in my hair. He yanked my head back, exposing my throat to the wicked blade in his hand, the steel cool against my jugular.

My pulse reverberated wildly against the knife. This was it. What came next? Would I even remember this life? I wasn’t sure I wanted to, not after this.

“Billy, you gonna remember what you seen, you hear? You better never forget. If you want to live through this night, you best heed my every word.”

I nodded vigorously. I had seen it. I could never un-see it. I could still picture Justin’s mouth twisting into a grimace of fatal agony, his eyes widening in shock and terror as the monsters converged on him.

“Good. Now, we’re gonna mosey on over to the guest house. You’re in for a real treat this time.”

It was then I realized the children had reverted back to their original forms, although the air was still charged with electricity. The vibrating had begun again but, for the moment at least, the feeding frenzy was over.

Uncle Jesse poked my sore ribcage with the point of his knife, the steel slipping far enough in to scrape bone, jolting me with intense pain. I cried out, limping ahead of him toward the next house. A soft welcoming radiance beckoned me through an open door.

There was a commotion from inside, and I winced in apprehension at what might be in store.

Uncle Jesse instructed me to climb the steps, to go in and sit down on the couch.

“Don’t try anything funny, now, mister.” He warned. “These young’uns ain’t picky. Fact is, they’d much rather pick their teeth with your bones than let you sit around like the forbidden slice of pie. Get in there, sit down on the couch and stay, or I’ll turn ‘em loose on you, too.”

As I entered the house, I scanned the room for anything useful as a weapon. But the place was bare, save for two lengths of chain connected to incredibly thick steel hoops bolted to the wooden floor. The other ends of the chains disappeared into an adjoining room.

One of the chains moved, and then the other. Suddenly they were both drooping down to the floor, scraping the hardwood louder and louder until my sister and Cassie came walking into the room, dragging the chains with them. At once, their eyes met mine. A look of relief washed over their frightened faces.

“Bill, what the fuck is going on? Where have you been? That old man chained us up in here, the guy who gave Justin and me a ride.” Monica had tears in her eyes, but I was certain she didn’t really know how grievous the situation was.

Cassie looked as though she were going into shock, but still she managed to speak.

“I told you I had a bad feeling about this place,” she whispered.

“Come on, Billy, get us the hell out of here!” My sister struggled against her chain, yanking against it with all her might. Her breath came in ragged hitches and sobs. “Why are you just sitting there, man?”

I was still unable to speak. I kept seeing Justin being torn limb from limb, the pieces disappearing into the vile gullets of those abominable creatures that had been let loose from who knew where, but the bowels of hell was a firm possibility.

Cassie made a desperate plea for confirmation. “You said everything would be okay. You promised you’d take care of me. That still happening, Billy?”

No words formed in my mouth. I wanted to save them, but I couldn’t move. I tried—God knows I tried—but my body was utterly useless.

The girls watched me for a moment before turning to face one another.

Fear crept back into their eyes as strange sounds flowed through the open front door. Uncle Jesse’s footsteps were deliberate and unmistakable, evenly paced, as if he enjoyed drawing out the suspense.

I had to give him credit. It worked.

He appeared in the dark opening, filling it completely with his bulky frame.

“Well, hello there, sinners. Happy Halloween! Tonight, I have a bit of bad news. They ain’t gonna be no treats for y’all. See, this is what’s goin’ down around here. What I said about that old ghost light story, Billy? I wasn’t kiddin’. It just ain’t working like it’s supposed to. Over the years, it kinda started losing its effectiveness.”

He hooked his thumbs under his overall straps and spit a gruesome glob of phlegm on the floor in front of the girls. “This place is kinda special. Them kids I got in my charge ain’t really mine. Oh, they are now, but they was a gift from the big guy, you see? My job has always been to keep ‘em fat ‘n happy so when they get old enough to go out on their own they’ll be as strong as they need to be to . . . well . . . do what it was they was meant to do. I reckon this world is in for a big surprise when these young’uns reach full maturity and I gotta cut ’em loose. Things gonna get mighty crazy then. I’ll just leave it at that.

“So, we been usin’ that ghost light story for more’n half a century, and it ain’t fared half bad. Kids never went without. Curiosity sure brought them enough food to get by.” He laughed heartily at that.

“Last few years, ain’t a lot goes on out here anymore. Nobody cares about that ghost light no more. What we need is a new story, somethin’ that speaks to today’s kids. I been workin’ it out for a while, but it wasn’t till I got hold of y’all that it came to me like a smack in the face.

He continued, as a self-satisfied grin spread across his face.

“After tonight, I’m willin’ to bet business is gonna be boomin’. I decided, instead of makin’ up a hokey asinine ghost story, we can just tell the truth. Kids these days need something extreme to convince them to go out and explore the woods. I’m gonna give ‘em what they want. That is, so they’ll come out here and help me feed these babies.

“Now, we need to let the young’uns finish up for the day. They gonna be all tuckered out after this much eating. Billy, when it’s all done, I’m comin’ back in to get you. I’ll help you get your car out of the mud so you can go home.”

He looked towards the girls, chuckled and snapped his shoulder straps against his chest. “Night ladies.”

He turned back to face me and for a moment, a cloud of terror appeared to cast a shadow over his demeanor. “I’d love to stay, but I can’t say I got the stomach for this part no more.”

With that, he turned and quickly made his exit. The clicking of long nails began as the things climbed the steps.

“Monica, I’m so sorry,” I said. I ran over to where they were chained to the floor. I knew I was not supposed to move, but I had to try.

“What’s happening, Billy? Is this some kind of joke? Because it isn’t funny if it is.”

The beasts howled and screamed as they clattered up the steps.

Cassie’s eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out, perhaps too afraid to see what was coming. It was a small mercy.

The monsters burst into the room, knocking me back onto the couch as they set upon the girls with their vicious appetites.

It was bad, so much worse than Justin. It was my baby sister, and another sweet girl.

All beauty, all joy drained out of me as the blood spilled, and the flesh was devoured. Their screams and cries of torment and sorrow filled the room, competing with the gnashing, slurping and howls of delight that issued forth from the demonically transformed children.

I watched, helpless, as Cassie’s face was swiped off her head and devoured, arms and legs ripped from their respective sockets, brain matter and bones splattering the walls. A stray hand, I couldn’t tell whose, plunked down onto the couch beside me. I cried out and scurried away as one of the beasts ventured over, sneering at me as though from the depths of hell. It smiled as it greedily snatched the hand from the sofa, slapped my cheek with it and then stuffed it into its dripping mouth with a delighted moan, slurping and crunching it like a dog with a toy.

My life may have been spared, but I died in every other possible way that night.

Uncle Jesse was a man of his word.

He drove me out to my mom’s car in the tow truck, even had to give me a jump, since Monica had left the lights and radio on. Uncle Jesse even tried to make friendly small talk with me as he pulled the car out of the sand. I said nothing, just let him go on and on until the car was pulled back on solid ground. It was sickening to me just how effortlessly the tires slid out of the holes.

“Before you skedaddle, I want to make sure you know why you’re goin’ home when the rest of ‘em ain’t, Billy. I had to leave a witness, much as it pained me to deprive my darlings the joy of eating you alive. It’s your job to tell people the story. I want you to generate interest in our little neck of the woods by warning them to stay away. You’ll get it. I knew right away, you was gonna be the one.”

I sat in shocked silence,

The children need food, and you’re the one who’s going to get it for them. You follow me?”

I nodded. At the time, I didn’t really know what I agreed to.

He smiled, satisfied. “I believe in you, son.” At that, he flashed my wallet in my face.

“What the fuck?” I stuttered, my words slurry and thick, my tongue a dead and rotting jellyfish lying cold and useless in my mouth.

I can’t give you the driver’s license back, son. Just a little insurance policy to keep you in check. We also liberated the papers from your glove box. Seems that car belongs to your mama and papa. Well, you go running away and don’t do as you’re told, you pretty much know what happens next. You’re gonna do just fine. Now go get ‘em. And remember, curiosity is a force of nature. People will come. That’s the great thing about you humans, Billy, you just love to be scared.”

I blinked a couple of times, and with no warning at all, Uncle Jesse was no longer there. I was driving like a bat out of hell, crossing the Buchman Bridge at a hundred and twenty across the St. John’s River, a block of time erased from my memory. The important thing is I remembered the deal the old monster had made with me. I nodded my head and agreed to everything Uncle Jesse had demanded. Though he was not present, I knew he could hear me.

“I’ll do what I have to do. I’ll do what needs to be done.”