Where was she taking her? The two had been trudging through the woods for what felt like forever to Amber.
You’re not Amber, remember? she said to herself. It’s Jessica now. Play along!
You’re Jessica.
Jessica.
Jessica.
She kept tripping. She was losing the feeling in her feet, clumsily stumbling in the dark. Her fingers had grown so numb. The cold had seeped into her limbs and was now working its way into her bones, an insidious chill that permeated every inch of her body.
These costumes weren’t made for the cold. They were nothing but rags, really. She was shivering. The click-click-click of her own teeth chattering against one another filled her skull. She could see her breath spreading out before her with every exhale, short bursts of steam.
Not Nora.
Amber couldn’t make out Nora’s breath at all. It wasn’t fogging up before her, like her own breath was.
Nora hadn’t let go of Amber since she had first stepped into the woods. The woman’s grip only tightened, her bony fingers clamping around her wrist and pulling.
Amber had to pick up her pace, just to keep from losing her footing and falling on the ground. She was practically running now. Her shoulder felt like it was one tug away from popping out of its socket. She wanted to ask Nora why she was in such a hurry.
She wanted to ask, Where are we going? Shouldn’t we be heading the other way? Back to the church? Toward the crew? Toward Mom?
Nora hadn’t looked back. Hadn’t glanced over her shoulder at Amber—Jessica—for a while now. She seemed determined to drag the little girl deeper into the woods, where no one would find them. She was limping. One heel raked over the ground, scraping up leaves and pine needles in their wake. Amber hadn’t noticed it before. It seemed like Nora was unable to bend her right leg. Like her bones had locked. Or had lost their mobility. Now that they were rushing through the woods, the woman’s unsteady gait was unavoidable. Had she always had a limp?
The farther away from the lamps they walked, the thicker the shadows grew. Now there was no light, artificial or otherwise. The moon was barricaded behind a latticework of branches. Its beams barely reached through the dense canopy of pines overhead. What little light was able to find them cast the faintest glow over their bodies, but not much else. There was nothing Amber could see, nothing beyond the sloping torsos of pines, their boughs warping in the dark. She could hear the chirping of crickets, every snapping branch at her heels.
And Nora’s ragged breathing. Every inhale had a wet drag to it, like burlap ripping. Her exhales were only worse. The air would enter her chest with a sharp intake, rrrrrip, only to seep out through her lungs, her throat, her corroded flesh. It whistled out from her in far too many places.
But still…it wasn’t fogging up. Wasn’t clouding over in the air, like Amber’s was.
Pins and needles prickled the soft underside of her arm. She was losing the feeling below her shoulder. The flow of blood was no longer reaching her hand.
“You’re hurting me,” Amber said, tugging back.
Nora’s grip only tightened.
Pulling her forward.
Deeper into the woods.
Amber had never noticed it before, but as the wind blew through the surrounding pines, their needles rustled in a soft timbre. Not like the rustling of leaves. These needles bristled. It had a fainter resonance to it. Gentler. Amber closed her eyes, and for the briefest spell, she convinced herself she was actually at the beach, listening to the waves rushing over the shore.
Fingernails raked across Amber’s cheek.
Her eyes jolted open.
A low-hanging branch had brushed over her face, its needles scraping her skin.
“I want to go back. Please.”
There. She’d said it. The tone of her voice held no strength, though. No persistence. It was a whimper, a sound her mother abhorred. Whenever Amber talked in that voice, her mom would immediately respond in the exact same tone, only exaggerated to annoying effect.
Eeeeh, I’m hungry. I’m tired. I wanna go home.
Like a crybaby.
A big, fat, silly crybaby.
But Amber couldn’t help it. She was scared. Cold. And lost. She had no idea where they were anymore or how far they had gone. These woods felt endless. There were no contours, no dimension to this endless stretch of trees. It just kept going on and on. No hills, no clearings…
The pines suddenly opened.
Just like that. As if they had been listening to Amber’s thoughts.
A clearing.
The moon hung overhead, wrapped in a crown of quivering treetops. Nora stepped into the glade and immediately halted. She released Amber’s hand for the first time in an eternity. Amber brought her arm up and massaged her wrist. The feeling of her own cold skin sent shivers down her spine. She’d gone so numb, her own flesh didn’t feel like it was hers.
Nora stood in the center of the clearing.
At the very heart of it.
Amber had yet to step into the opening, unsure of what she should do. Was she supposed to follow Nora? Her head kept spinning. She felt dizzy, released from Nora’s grip.
That was when she noticed the upturned earth.
All the dirt. So much soil.
It looked as if someone had dug a hole in the ground.
No. Not dug in.
Dug out.
The ground had opened from below, the dirt forced up in jagged mounds at either side of this gaping chasm. Something had clawed its way out from the ground.
From the dirt.
Nora stared at Amber. Waiting. Almost as if she were expecting something from Amber. Wanting something of her. Yearning. So much yearning.
What was she supposed to say? What was going on here?
“I want…” Amber started, only for her breath to catch in her throat. “I want…”
What was she going to say? What did she want? What did she really want?
“I want to go home.”
There. She’d said it.
Home. That’s exactly what Amber wanted.
She wanted to go home.
Nora breathed in, dragging the air through her ragged lungs, and responded in a voice that sounded nothing like Nora Lambert at all.
“Home.”