Into the Hollow (Experiment in Terror 6)

“Perry, hey.” Dex tried to get my attention while he picked up the kitchen table.

I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t move.

“A little help, please,” he repeated. I finally tore my eyes away to him at the sound of the utter pleading in his voice. He was trying to turn it on its end so it would stand up high enough to block the window.

With legs made of cement, I joined him at the window, moving the heavy table back so it was covering most of the pane.

Then a silence cloaked us, settling around the whole cabin. I could hear my breath, ragged and wheezing as it came out of my lungs.

My eyes flew to the main door. The rattling had stopped. The door was still. The place was quiet. Too quiet.

We exchanged a worried look over the expanse of wood and with a final thrust, pushed the table back. There was only a foot of space on my side that was uncovered and I had my head close to the darkness, contemplating if we needed to cover it up more when a head appeared beside me.

The beast was at the window, inches away, only a thin pane of glass between his swarming, liquid black eyes and bared fangs, and me.

I screamed.

And I screamed again when the window shattered. I leaped back from the rain of glass just as its muscled arm and snipping claws came flying in, making a grab for me.

I couldn’t stop screaming, so Dex whisked me back into his arms until the beast’s arm retreated back into the night, leaving a narrow hole of broken glass that let the whistling wind inside.

“The bedrooms!” Dex yelled.

We booked it to ours just as the glass shattered there, spewing fragments all over the bed. The monster had both arms inside, including the arm whose shoulder I shattered, it’s bloody wound dripping down the wall as it tried to pull itself up.

Dex made a run for the bed, his sleek body low as he got ready to flip it up against the window. He had flipped the bed in the motel room the other night, so there was no reason why he couldn’t do this.

Except when Dex got down, his arms straining underneath the edge of the bed, he could only lift it up a few feet. He struggled, face sweating and growing redder as the monster was almost in the room with us, only it’s lower half was dangling outside. In the crazy glow of the kerosene lamp, I saw the creature closer than I ever had before. If it was a missing link, it was a bizarre, twisted one, a savage, animal face that couldn’t possibly be related to us. Yet when I thought about the faces of evil I’d seen in my life, from Mitch’s lustful, demented gaze earlier, to the depraved, haunting face of Abby, I knew that the link from man to monster wasn’t too far off.

“Perry,” Dex cried pitifully. “Help.”

My heart sank. He couldn’t do it. His strength was fading by the second and we didn’t have seconds. We would have nothing if the monster finally made it into the room with us.

And it wasn’t a question of if, but when.

I joined him at his side, getting into a low crouch and trying to push the bed up like I was in a weightlifting competition. The bed moved a bit and together we were able to move it up a foot.

But it was too late.

As we lifted, side-by-side, our arms underneath the bed, our chins on top of the mattress, we saw the rest of the glass shatter away. The monster was perched on the window ledge, perched like a snake with arms, like a raptor, ready to strike. There wasn’t any time to think or act, except that I saw in its tar-filled, alien eyes that it had us. It had us right where it wanted us.

And it wanted revenge.

There was a flash of movement, its fur-covered muscles tensing to pounce, claws extended, when a huge blast shook our ears and the room.

We blinked hard at it, confused when it didn’t move. The creature looked down at its leg and that’s when we saw a stream of blood erupt from it.

Then it fell backward, falling out of the window and into the winter outside.

I was stunned. In my confusion I let go of the bed and it slammed hard into the floor. It didn’t matter. What the fuck had just happened?

Dex and I walked cautiously over to the window and peered out of it, the night breeze whipping back my hair. There was nothing below us except a patch of blood and a corresponding trail that led off into the woods.

And Rigby.

He was running toward us with a rifle in hand, his flashlight bobbing up and down.

“Are you all right!?” he yelled up at the window. “Stay there, I wanna see if I can kill this thing for good.”

And then he was gone into the trees, following the bloody trail.

Dex and I looked at each other. I was dizzy from holding my breath and leaned against the wall for support. He took me by the shoulders and pulled me into his chest, embracing me. He held me like that until I felt I could breathe again, until my heart stopped thudding in my ears. Until we heard two more gunshots ricocheting into the night.

I pulled away and looked up. He was gazing down at me with an expression I couldn’t read, made all the more mysterious by the glow of the lamp.

“What do we do?” I whispered.

He cupped my face in his hands and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. I needed it.

But he only lowered his eyes till they were at my level and said, “We’re going to try and flip this bed up again. And then we’re going to go out there and get those knifes. Then we’re going to wait.”

We didn’t have to wait long. We managed to get the bed up. It took as much effort as before, but as least the window was blocked. Then we picked up the knives from where we left them and were about to test the couch for solidity when there was a knock at the door.

I jumped, nearly dropping the knife.

“Dex, Perry, it’s me,” Rigby yelled from the other side of the door.

“Oh thank God,” Dex exclaimed and began to move the couch out of the way. We stood back as Rigby pushed the door in, gripping the rifle like an angry farmer with a rabbit problem.

“I couldn’t find it,” he said, staggering into the cabin. “The trail ended. I think I got his leg pretty good though. He won’t be back for a while.”

He looked back and forth between our relieved faces. “What happened to you guys? Where are the llamas? Where’s Mitch?”

I exchanged a glance with Dex. He gave Rigby a grave smile.

“It’s a long story and I don’t think we have a lot of time. How about we tell you on our way out of this hell hole?”

Rigby nodded grimly, maybe knowing what was to come. Dex and I quickly gathered up our packs and we ran out into the night. It was starting to snow again but I was willing to put up with it for this last journey.

Rigby had come on his horse and Dex insisted that I would ride the horse back to give myself a rest from walking. My protest was weak and being the gentleman that Rigby was deep down inside, I was thrust up into the saddle. I held tight to the saddle horn, my eyes scanning the dark forest for anything unusual. I could never fully believe that the beast was gone for good.

While I rode, Dex and Rigby walked in front of me, leading the way. Dex explained everything from the moment that Rigby and Christina had left us. Rigby just kind of nodded, not saying much. I think he was in shock from the whole thing, not only finding out that at least one but possibly all of the llamas, his livelihood was gone, but that his hunting partner was gone too. I didn’t know how close Rigby was to Mitch or if he knew what kind of person Mitch truly was, but he didn’t show any emotion. Just a faint, “oh,” after Dex told him I found his severed arm.

It was interesting though how Rigby almost had to argue with Dex over what the creature looked like. He was adamant that the beast had red eyes, though I knew for a fact they were eerie pools of black. He also thought the head would be rounder, that the fur would be darker. I guess that’s how urban legends got started in the first place. One person sees only what they want to see, not what’s really there. To Rigby, red eyes were the most frightening thing to see in the woods, but it wasn’t necessarily the reality.

When we could see the lights of Rigby’s house through the trees, he stopped and pulled back at the horse. He eyed both of us seriously.

“The reason I came out to the cabin…,” he said, his voice low. His eyes darted to the house lights and back. “I came because I found out what Christina had done.”

Christina?

He lowered his head a little, as if in shame, and continued, “This morning she had gone out for a ride. I was looking for a ledger in her room and I came across a bag. Inside were two transmitter circuits. From the walkie talkies she gave you.”

I breathed out slowly.

“I questioned her about it. She broke down in tears…said that she took them out because she didn’t want you to reach us. She thought that it would make the whole thing scarier if you felt on your own. I couldn’t believe it, ya know?”

He rubbed at his face and I could see the strain on his brow. I would have felt sorry for him but at that moment, all I could think about was how God damn angry I was that Christina had done that. We could have all been saved if it weren’t for that!

“Why?” I asked, trying to keep my emotions under control. “Why would she do that?”

“She thought that if you made a really scary show, then people would come here. That the business would get going again. Stupid, stupid girl…she even thought it would make for a better movie if the motion detector lights didn’t work. When we were in the woods that time, she went on the roof and covered up the solar panels. She didn’t think she put you into any danger, but she’s going to find out the hard way exactly what she did. She put…” he closed his eyes and struggled for words, “she’s going to have to live with what happened. And so will I.”

I looked over at Dex. His hands had balled into fists and he was biting his lower lip hard. I wasn’t the only one who was livid.

“We’re going to have to bring the police into this,” Dex said in a flinty voice. “She may have not meant for any of this to happen. But we almost died out there and we were the lucky ones. You don’t fuck with people’s lives like that.”

Rigby looked up at him, tears glistening in his eyes. “I know. I’m so sorry for what she did. I know she will be too.”

“Sorry doesn’t even do anything in this case,” I said to myself. He looked up at me and gave me a short nod.

“I know Miss Perry. I know.”

I sighed and Rigby began leading us back to the house, to the lights, to a nightmare that didn’t seem to end.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The night stretched on in a blur. Once we got back to Rigby’s, we discovered Christina was gone. She had taken Rigby’s car into town, I guess trying to avoid what she knew was coming. Luckily we had come up in the Highlander and within seconds, we had crammed ourselves into the car, its comfort and familiar smell easing my heart, and we rode it all the way into town. When you lived miles away from the cops, it was usually better for you to just go to them.

It was in the car as we approached the lights of civilization that my phone sprang to life. I had numerous texts from Ada and my voice mail box was full. I texted her back quickly to let her know I was alive but I couldn’t respond to anything at the moment. All of that seemed inconsequential next to the severity of the case we were about to get involved with.