79. In the Middle of Nowhere

I smell them before I see them.

And the fact that I’m using plural is not good, not in this case.

If it weren’t for the stench, I don’t know if we would have spotted them.

I’m already using the flashlight because there’s maybe ten or fifteen minutes left of light in the sky. The beam is bouncing over the trees in front of us when I hear Poe moan.

“Do you smell that?”

A few steps later I do. It reminds me of the garbage in the back of a restaurant back home where me and a few buddies would hide out and drink beers. The dumpsters were full of rotting food that baked in the sun and ended up smelling worse than vomit. We held our noses but went there anyway because we knew nobody else would be around.

Somehow, what I’m smelling here is even worse.

If smells can produce pain, then I’m in agony.

I think of the trip to see Aunt Alice and of the poor groundhog that I saw on the road

and also saw in the bathtub don’t forget about that!

and I remember that stench.

I suddenly start sweeping the ground in front of us with my flashlight.

“It’s getting worse.”

It almost feels like we’re stepping into a pile of animal carcasses. But there’s nothing unusual on the forest ground beneath us.

I hear the buzzing of flies near my head and swoop my hand to make them go away. That’s when I see it. The thing near my head. The thing hanging on the tree.

Poe screams.

I bolt backward and fall to the ground, all while aiming the light at the furry thing in the tree. It’s gray and black, and I swear it’s getting ready to spring.

“That’s a cat!”

I see beady eyes reflecting the light. Poe’s right. It’s a cat.

A cat that isn’t springing anywhere anytime soon. It looks—attached to the tree.

I don’t even want to know how.

“It’s dead oh gross it’s so dead.” Poe curses and comes behind me as I get up and try to act like the brave guy again.

“How’s it just hanging there?” I get as close as I’m going to get and examine it. It’s attached by its chest, which seems to be nailed into the tree.

“That was done recently,” Poe says.

“Yeah.”

Thanks for the obvious and for adding to the nightmare.

I glide the flashlight around and examine other trees. I think I spot at least three more dead animals.

“Let’s go,” I say. I don’t want her to see any more.

“Go back?”

I shake my head. “No. We’re far enough out here. Whoever did this—there might be a reason why.”

“I don’t think I want to know a reason. I can think up a few myself.”

“Come on.”

We keep walking and we reach a small hill with an old, crumbling wood fence at the top. I kick it in, and the wood disintegrates. Then I look ahead and see the opening.

Even in the shadows I can see the outlines of what used to be buildings. Old houses, cabins, small one-story log cabins that now only seem like massive and grotesque building blocks in the evening light.

“This is it.”

I nod at Poe and grab her hand and hold it tight. I think I just want to make sure that I have something real and normal to hold on to. Her grip is tight as we walk down what appears to be an old street, now overgrown with brush and weeds.

A handful of half-erect buildings are on each side of us. Small trees and weeds the size of me fill them in. The flashlight reveals the scarred black on the building, a kind that can only come from fire.

I see the building in front of us before Poe does. The shape is what first gets my attention. It’s a rectangle, a couple of stories tall, intact. Then I see something that chills me even more than those dead animals. It’s a sharp steeple pointing high in the sky.

This building is wood and stone, and it looks brand-new.

“What’s a church doing here?”

The road we’re on has suddenly become flat and clear, as if vehicles have driven over it recently. We see sawdust and mud and tire tracks and ruts in the ground.

“Who’s building a church here?” Poe asks.

It’s crazy, because we thought we were in the middle of nowhere.

The windows aren’t in, but the roof and the walls are solid and stable. I can’t see anything inside except darkness.

“You think Pastor Marsh is building this?”

I nod. It makes sense. At least as much as anything else makes sense in this crazy town.

“But it’s right next to his church.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a door on the front, even though the main entry is still only dirt. My flashlight shows the cross on the door.

It’s inverted.

“I’m not going in there,” Poe says.

“We have to.”

“No way. Uh-uh. You see that?”

“Nobody’s here.”

“How do you know?” she asks.

“I have to go inside.”

“So go. I don’t want to touch it. I don’t want anything to do with that.”

We’re already way out here, so there’s no way I’m not going in. I press Poe a couple more times, but she backs away from the church and folds her arms. I know her well enough to know there’s no way I’m getting her to budge.

It’s dark and it’s cold and this is probably a very bad idea.

“Okay, just—stay there.”

“I’m fine.”

I scan around the church. There are woods on all sides. I can’t tell where the road that we’re on leads, but it’s got to be a main road where trucks can come for building and supplies and all that.

Everything is silent.

Too silent.

“Just wait. I’m going to check it out.”

“You’re crazy,” she says.

“Yeah, maybe.”

I go to the door and turn the handle.

It opens with ease.

As if whoever built this has been waiting for me to come on in.