CHAPTER SIX

The Big Climb

I walk past the garage, following the scent like a mouse on the hunt for cheese. The flowery smell gets stronger the closer I inch to the woods. Ice-cold wind glides quietly through the leaves as the woods swallow up the last signs of haze, luring me in.

“Lana?” I whisper, letting out the breath I was holding in.

The entire woods smell of her now, as if the soil itself has been watered with her scent. My legs suddenly feel rubbery, but I keep going, conscious that I’m now deeper in the woods than I expected.

“Lana!” I try again.

I shove Timmy’s warning to the back of my head. He’ll have to try harder if he wants to scare me. Dried pine needles clutter the floor as the oak trees tower above me. Lichen and moss paint the trunks in criss-cross patterns; from an angle it looks like fragments of a long-lost map. Even though it’s still early, a shadow has fallen over the woods, but I keep walking, breathing in the overpowering smell with hopeful desperation.

As I look down at my feet, I realise I’m walking through a pool of meaty maggots, writhing in the dirt like yellow rattlesnakes. The maggots start crawling up my shoes and as they do, the smell of sweet lilies vanishes into the air, replaced by dank soil and sour berries. I pinch my nose in disgust and breathe through my mouth, shaking the maggots off me.

I stare ahead, calculating my next move, when a voice drifts into my ears. It makes my insides warm and cold at the same time. I know that voice so well, but the thing is, I haven’t heard it in over a year.

“Lana?” I call out, not quite believing my ears. Hope, shock, and disbelief shake inside of me. “Lana, where are you?”

“Over here, Ari, quick!” she calls.

My heart nearly explodes out of my chest as I sprint in the direction of her voice. A light drizzle pours from the sky, spattering my face with tiny raindrops. I waddle through the mass of trees, wiping away the salty sweat trickling down the corners of my nose.

“Lana? Say something!”

The woods shake with the weight of my voice. I rush along a narrowing path; it feels like my head is being squished together as I force myself between the small gaps of the trees.

“Lana?”

I can’t hear her anymore, so I come to a stop. To my left is a pathway full of spiked bushes and stinging nettles. I turn to my right and find a circle of trees looming over me. In the centre stands one tree, barer and taller than the rest.

I tread around the corpses of fallen tree branches, threading in and out until I’m in front of a spiralling, leafless tree. The timber is riddled with dark grooves the colour of plums. Lana knew a lot about trees, she taught me how to tell the difference between a dying tree and a healthy one. The fewer cracks and fungus you find on the trunk, the healthier it is.

This tree is only just starting to crack at the sides, but there are no critters, which means it’s still breathing and alive. Unlike the other, fuller trees surrounding it, there are no leaves except for nine crooked twigs stretching out of its sides. I crane my neck, squinting past the shrinking sunshine, when something colourful flashes above me. I stare at the wild bushy tree next to it.

Hanging from the highest branch is a long rainbow-coloured necklace made out of cheap plastic. My feet turn to jelly, heart chugging from another happy memory with Lana. We were at the arcade, and I used my last ten pence to have a go at the grabber machine. Instead of the five-pound note I was aiming for, I ended up with a multi-coloured necklace. Lana wore it proudly for the rest of the day, and the next morning, I found a five-pound note under my pillow.

“The tooth fairy left it.”

“I’m not five, Lana, I know you put it there!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She has a great poker face, my sister.

“Lana?” I call up, maybe she’s hiding in the bushes or she’s in trouble and leaving me clues to follow.

I tilt my head toward the sky, the fading sun giving way to angry clouds. I pick up the stone next to my feet and throw it at the necklace, but it’s firmly hooked in place. I try again, but each time, the stone misses its target.

Climb the tree, Ari, that’s what Lana would do.

I pull the hood up over my head and grip both sides of the trunk, the way I saw Lana do it many times before. I hoist myself up, feet slipping against the moistened wood before I finally pant my way to the top. With one leg balanced against a sturdy looking limb, I reach over and grab the necklace. There is a small knot in the string; Lana tied it together because it kept coming loose around her neck. I examine the necklace carefully, searching for answers. None come to me.

I lean forward and gulp, carefully rotating my body so that my leg reaches the foothold below me. As I make my move, the tree starts rocking from side to side.

“What the—”

I grab the nearest branch and hold on tight. Lana’s necklace slips from my fingers. With my legs suspended in mid-air, I pull myself up to a sitting position, riding the leafy branch like a broomstick. From up here, I see that none of the other trees are shaking, only the one I’m on.

They say the Twig Man controls the woods . . . you mustn’t overstay your welcome.

I never took Nan too seriously then, but as I look ahead at the still woods, I think she was onto something. Is the Twig Man doing this? My body rocks as a fresh wave of fear washes over me.

I stretch out my hand and hold onto what I think is a branch, but it’s suspiciously warm and rubbery on my skin. I pull my hand away and cautiously peer through the shaggy leaves, at a nesting hole. Inside, hanging upside down, is a hairless bat.

“ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!” I scream.

The bat opens its white eyes and flies toward me. Pure terror fills my stomach; I let go of the tree and fall backwards. At the last second, I lunge onto the tree trunk to break my fall, but I still land hard on my back. Bright dots blur my vision as a powerful, fruity smell sends my stomach dancing. That’s when I see it, a face half-hidden behind a gloomy looking cloud. A flash of brown teeth, leathered skin, and haunting, white eyes.

A series of flashbacks tumble through my brain—the rat outside my window, the bat just now, and Lana telling me that she thought the cat was possessed. All with white eyes.

I hurry to my feet, but everything is fuzzy, and by the time I shake off the cobwebs in my head, the chilling face has disappeared. My head continues to spin, and for a moment the shadows from the twigs make it look like nine pairs of hands are out to grab me. I’m just about to make a run for it when a low grizzle forces me to take a step back. Slowly, I turn my head and put one hand to my mouth to stop myself from yelling out.

A rabid fox, with eyes like white clouds and battle scars displayed proudly down its face, is watching me. I can smell its meaty breath as it takes a step towards me. A scream escapes into the air. It takes me a second to realise that the noise is coming from me.

I back away from the fox, against the decaying tree trunk; it feels moist against my skin as something rustles behind me. In the distance, I hear a long, drawn-out meow. Without thinking, I pick up a rock from the ground, and with shaking hands, hurl it at the fox in front of me. A sharp, high-pitched wail escapes the fox, and in that split second, I race forward through the pain firing up my knee. It feels like I’m leaping through the air, not running on it. The blood pumps through my veins as a tremor tingles down my spine. I cover my face, fighting my way through the hoard of stinging nettles and brittle shrubbery until I come out onto a clearer path.

The sound of splashing water adds a spring to my step. The lake must be nearby. I run full speed in its direction, pausing to catch my breath when, next to me, the thick laurel bush starts quivering. I jump to my feet, ready to dash again, when out pops a human head.

“Ari! What are you doing here?” Timmy stares at my mud-stained clothes and bloodied knee.

Before I can respond, I spot something moving behind his shoulders.

“Run!” I scream, dragging him out of the bushes.

“What’s going on? Why are we running?” Timmy’s hot, panicked breath blows on my neck as we sprint side by side.

“Fox!” I yell back.

When he hears this, Timmy speeds ahead of me. We run for what feels like forever before Timmy calls out, “Take a left there. Get in quick.” He pushes me into a small, empty shed.

As soon as we’re inside, I collapse on the floor and hold a hand to my chest. Timmy is by the small window, surveying the outside with a wild look in his eyes.

“I think we lost it,” he says.

I slowly edge towards the window and let out a huge sigh of relief.

“That was a close one,” I whisper, staring outside.