Don't go out in the woods tonight…

"Where am I?" The rumble of the engine little comfort, Dale said it aloud, no reply expected. Illumined by the dash lights, she glanced at the directions again, a tight grip on the wheel. The scribbles on the paper could have been in Greek for all the good they were.

In nearly total darkness except for the bright beam of the headlights, the narrow country road curved through the shadowy hint of dense woods. Deserted, except for her little Honda, the isolation of the area pressed down as unease trickled through her. Scanning the few breaks in the forest for the faint glimmer of a cabin, she leaned closer to the steering wheel. Why had she gone alone?

"Because you are so damn independent."

Will had volunteered to accompany her on the trip, but since it spanned a weekend, she didn't want him to think it would be an invitation for something more. A platonic relationship was all she wanted from him, regardless of his intentions. Still, he knew this area much better than she did, and should have taken his offer.

Without warning, the road abruptly turned to gravel. Easing off the gas as the car skid, the harsh crunching under the tires setting her jangled nerves up a notch. The speedometer read twenty-five when she regained control. Fumbling with her purse, she retrieved the cell phone and then punched in the number jotted on the corner of the directions.

Static chattered over the distant ringing. Why did people always wait for the second or third ring before answering the telephone? Tapping the brake as the road plunged into a steep, curving descent, she held the phone tightly to her ear with her shoulder while she grabbled with the wheel.

"Hello?"

"Becky, thank God!"

"Where are you?"

The static made Becky's voice echo like it issued from the other end of a long, hollow tube. "I'm lost. These directions are worthless. I'm on a gravel road now. I turned off Miller Creek and onto Brightwood Road about twenty minutes ago. There was no Pine Ridge Road on the left, just woods and then this miserable gravel."

"No, no, not Brightwood, Bentwood. Brightwood Road is five miles past where you should ha..." The hiss of static cut her off, then the reception cleared. "… turn around. Donna, Gary, Ruth, Ted and Shelly have been here since five, so I just served dinner. I'll keep yours in the oven until you get here. How long will you be?"

How nice. Thoroughly overcooked prime rib. If Becky had learned to write legibly, this would not have happened. Still, she couldn't complain, this was a free weekend getaway with old college friends she hadn't seen in two years. She glanced at the dash clock. Almost eight. "It will probably take about an hour to backtrack."

"What?"

"About an hour," she shouted into the phone, then listened, but heard nothing but the crackle of static. "Oh, hell!"

She dropped the telephone on the seat and negotiated a tight turn, fighting the wheel as the back of the car tried to slip sideways. There was no way to turn around; she would have to go all the way to the bottom before she could make her way back up. A deer startled her as it bolted across the narrow lane, its gray flank rippling as lithe muscles propelled it effortlessly up the embankment on the far side of the road. When her foot hit the brake an instant before she realized it was the wrong thing to do, the back of the little Honda fishtailed, then swung around. The steering wheel free-spun in her hands as if she was trying to steer over ice, while the ping and clatter of gravel rang off the undercarriage.

The bright flash of headlights swept across the steep face of the embankment, then pointed back up the hill as the car bounced and jostled, then slid backwards. Blood pounded in her ears as she craned her neck around, trying to see where the car was headed. Every time she pressed the brakes the car skittered over the loose gravel gaining momentum as if the car glided over ball bearings. All she could attempt was to steer the car and hope the road bottomed out soon. Black shapes sped by as she tried to avoid colliding with the trees lining the road. Rushing backwards toward oblivion, a back tire lost traction and the car lurched then plunged off the edge of the road and flipped.

A sharp pain flashed through her skull as her head hit the corner of the roof by the window. Blackness followed.

"Oh, please say you'll go. You'll love it, honest," Becky said. "It'll be a fun weekend with the old gang celebrating Halloween in the woods. My folks let me use their cabin and we can sit in front of the fireplace with the lights off, tell spooky stories and drink peppermint Schnapps and hot chocolate until we pass out from exhaustion."

Her best friend through four years at Oregon State, there was such enthusiasm in Becky's voice Dale couldn't refuse. "Okay, I'll come."

"Yay!" The sound of Becky clapping punctuated her excitement. "Bring Will, too. He'll have a great time."

"No, he has to work." She wasn't going to explain her reluctance to let him meet her old friends. They were, after all, an odd assortment of characters best described as beloved eccentrics. After he met Becky, his opinion of her was that she was peculiar and her addiction to Tarot cards and mysticism a bit much. Maybe this was why she wasn't allowing herself to become too serious about their relationship. A narrow mind was hard to overcome. "Maybe next time."

"Sure. I'll fax over a map I'm drawing as we speak. See you Friday night."

Will was less enthusiastic when she told him, although he did volunteer to go anyway. "Driving up into the mountains after work is dangerous, you'll need company."

He flicked on the television without her permission and flopped onto the couch. Another reason she found him less than loveable, lack of respect for others property. Surfing through the channels, he hiked one leg up over the armrest.

"Will, get your leg off there."

Ignoring her, he said, "What's so fun about this get together, anyway? Becky's a nut case and probably will try to summon up evil spirits or something during a séance."

Grabbing his foot, she hauled his offending member off the armrest. "These are my friends, remember, just like you. Becky has never maligned you in front of me."

"I'm just kidding around."

"I don't find your kidding funny."

He grabbed her arm, pulled her onto his lap and tried to give her a kiss. She twisted away and banged her head on the corner of the bookcase. Flashes of light made her close her eyes. When she opened them she shook her aching head. Had she been dreaming? Remembering? Yes, that was it. Realization set in; the car had slid off the road and overturned, knocking her out.

Momentarily disoriented in the blackness, she gradually realized the Honda had come to rest on the driver's side. A pang of fear gripped her as she lay on her left side, able to more sense than see her hand near her face. The faint plastic odor of the airbag mingled with the smell of hot oil and gasoline. That, and the gritty crunch of broken glass under her, meant the car was probably totaled. Worse, she was miles from the cabin, and help. When she ran her hand over her temple it came away sticky wet. Blood. With tentative fingers she examined the wound. A tender, goose egg-sized knot rested just above her temple and it oozed a dripping trail down her cheek. No wonder she felt dizzy. Was she hurt anywhere else? She reached across her body and released the seatbelt. The weight of her body eased against the door and she shifted around, moving slowly to elicit just enough pain to warn her of a broken bone without hurting herself more. Short-lived relief washed over her as she realized she was uninjured except for the pounding in her skull. Not knowing the extent of her head injury, she probably would require assistance.

Where was the cell phone? Although not a breeze, the cold October mountain air that sifted into the car seemed almost stale, stagnant. Glad she had on her skiing parka, she zipped it up to her neck. She squirmed around and got her feet under her, fighting a bout of wooziness, then groped over the center console to check the passenger side. Finding nothing, she continued to feel around in the dark. Her purse had lodged between the seats and she pulled it free. The telephone wasn't in it because she had dropped it on the seat moments before the crash, but a small flashlight was. Retrieving it, she mashed the switch and a thin beam of light pierced the blackness. Shining it around the interior, she found most of the windows had blown out. Shattered glass was sprinkled everywhere and amid the jagged pieces, the telephone lay all the way in the back by a small portion of the hatch window that remained. How it had managed to stay inside was miraculous. Unfortunately, sometime during the crash, the roof had been mashed in, and in order to get back there, she had to release the passenger seat forward. No easy feat since horizontal was now vertical and forward sideways. Perplexed, she studied the enigma, and then grasped the lever. A hollow ping signaled it had let go, but the seat didn't budge.

"Dammit!" Grasping the headrest, she hauled on the seat only to be frustrated by bright points of light splashing in front of her eyes, head reeling with pain as the world tilted and whirled around her. Leaning back, she took a deep breath and relaxed. Moments passed and so did the worst of the pain. When the tiny flashlight dimmed, she clicked it off, knowing she better conserve the battery. Although it was pitch black inside, she could feel her way around now that she knew where the phone was.

While she tried to figure out how to get to it, she glanced out the windshield. It was cracked, but somehow remained in one piece. The terrain beyond the glass was very dark, with only the most indistinct of shapes visible. Oppressive and eerie, the darkness gave her the creeps. She tried to put the headlights on, but they must have shattered during the crash. None of the dash gauges were lit, so she tried the key. Nothing happened. She scanned the gloomy expanse. The night had been overcast, and in the mountains with all the dense trees and hills she could have been inside a cave. Maybe it was only her imagination, but she thought she saw movement outside the window. She froze, heart pounding, and stared out at the vague nothingness. Dizzy and lightheaded, she hoped it was only her stunned state that made the blackness seem somehow alive.

Tearing her eyes away from the creepy shadows, she turned her attention to the seat. She had to get to the cell phone. Feet on the crushed glass and lumpy surface beneath where the driver's side window used to be, she pushed herself to a near-standing position and pulled the release latch with her left hand as she pushed on the back of the seat with her right. This time her effort was rewarded with the back moving forward halfway. Stuck in mid-position against the pushed down roof, it would have to do. Easing herself between the v-shaped opening, she wormed her way into the backseat. With the metal top pressing down, she angled into the narrow space that held the phone. Carefully groping through the litter of glass particles, she stretched further then reached the telephone. Jubilant, she hit redial while draped over the driver's seat.

Terrible static nearly drowned out the indistinct sound of the ring. "Please, please," she whispered. A garbled, "hello?" filled her with hope.

"Becky! Help!"

More static, then a distant, "Dale?"

"Yes! I've had an accident, I'm trapped!"

Sounding even more faint, she barely made out the word, "Where…?"

Where was she? Lost, off the side of some mountain road. How could she explain her location? "Bottom of Brightwood."

Static hissed endlessly. Becky was gone. Tears blurred her vision as she stared at the lighted display of the cell phone. The signal was so weak it was a miracle she had been able to make the call. What was she going to do now? Had Becky heard her?

After a moment she realized there was no use lamenting her predicament. What she really needed was to get out of pain so she could go about rescuing herself. She tucked the phone into her purse and rummaged around for a travel-sized container of Aleve she kept. The way her skull was pounding, she needed to take something. If she had a concussion, it wouldn't do for her to go to sleep, which seemed the easiest escape at the moment. However, reality was, if she went to sleep, she might never wake up. Sometimes independence had its merits, so whether or not Becky heard her, Dale was going to try to get herself out of this. The purse carefully slung over her neck and shoulder, she slipped back into the front fighting a wave of vertigo as she settled into the cramped space.

There was still half a bottle of water wedged in the cup holder, and she drank most of it down with two tablets, saving only a couple swallows for later. Although not prime rib, there was an energy bar and a pack of cheese and crackers in the purse that her grumbling stomach needed. Chewing slowly, she stared out the window at the creepy, unseen landscape. Probably around nine o'clock, the darkness was complete, as if it were after midnight. The witching hour. She almost laughed. It would be a great story for the cabin gathering, even if the ending was still unknown.

As the pain dwindled, she realized there was a very faint, but distinct noise outside the car. Tipping her head, she listened. Gooseflesh rose on her arms. There was something out there, something stealthy. The sound was vague, indefinable, as if heard through thick, earthen walls. A wet noise, like damp burlap dragged over smooth rocks made her shudder. Had something licked the outside of the car? What could it be? She took a deep breath and held it, listening. Was it possible something monstrous lurked in the deep shadows? Or was her battered brain so rattled she was only hearing her own misfiring synapses? Like the slow roll of an ocean wave, the giddy feeling of movement didn't help much either. She definitely had a concussion.

She grabbed the cell phone and hit redial. This time it only beeped and displayed "out of range". Isolation pressed her. If Becky was on her way, it would take an hour to get to her, could she wait that long? Was it safer to stay in the car? What if she was so far off the road they would never find her? In near total darkness and with no headlights to signal with, that possibility seemed very real. Her legs began to cramp and she adjusted her position against the seat. The noise abruptly stopped. Feeling like she had just given herself away, she froze again, breath held, skin prickling with fear. The darkness beyond the window gave no hint as to what it might shelter. At the moment, staying in the car seemed a very wise decision, at least until the sun came up. If she could wait that long. Whatever was out there, and there was something out there, seemed to prefer the cloak of night. Long minutes ticked by as she remained motionless, her legs trembling. Then it began again, the stealthy shuffling so very quiet, but somehow close.

The pain in her head grew with the tense posture she had assumed. She had to move. Maybe if she got her feet up by the dashboard she would be more comfortable. Slowly, and with great care, she inched her right leg over the steering wheel, then the other into the space between the dash and the window. The spasms in her legs subsided and she was able to relax a little. She wasn't trapped, but confined in a space about the size of a small bathtub, which she found increasingly unpleasant. Although not claustrophobic, she didn't like tight places. The thudding in her skull had lessened, but the steering wheel made finding room to stretch out impossible and pushed into the back of her right leg.

The torture chamber or the unknown monster? What a choice. Another wave of giddiness swept over her and a high-pitched buzz in her ears warned that she was close to passing out again. Blinking hard, she fought to stay conscious. It had to be her mind creating the frightful possibility of something outside the car. Head injuries made you paranoid, anyway. The ground beneath her seemed to rumble and thrum to some heavy-footed terror, but it could just as easily be the bump on her temple creating the illusion. The sound seemed louder, too, less cautious, as if it had grown more confident.

"It's all in your head." The statement seemed hilarious and made her giggle. An imagined bogey out there in the dark was ridiculous.  With a renewed sense of purpose, she dislodged her legs and got them back underneath her, then reached up toward the broken out passenger side window. Just inches from the opening she froze. Was there something there? Straining her eyes to make sense of it, she realized the opening seemed overshadowed, perhaps even blocked by a deeper blackness. And, there was an acrid, foul odor to the cold air that filtered through the windows. Why hadn't she noticed it before? Coppery, it could have been the odor of drying blood. Was that her own? No, there was something putrid in it, the sweetish stench of rotting flesh.

Blood hammered in her ears as her heart raced. What was out there? Reality struck her. Inside the car she had no place to run if whatever it was decided to go after her. Imagining a clawed tentacle groping inside, seeking her out only terrified her more. She had to get out or her little Honda would become her coffin. But, how? Whatever was out there seemed to be over the car. Going out the back window seemed to make the most sense. Then what? Run? She had no idea where she was and could be at the very bottom of a steep ravine. Hiking out in jet-blackness seemed sheer lunacy. She did have the little flashlight, and conserving the battery seemed a wise choice. Before she went through the window, she could shine it around briefly, get her bearings, and then slip out. After that, she would use it quickly to find her way back to the road. Once there, it would be fairly easy to follow it up, and hopefully meet Becky on her way down to find her.

The one question she couldn't answer was what if the thing out there went after her? A mad dash through the dark held the possibility of broken bones, or even running off the edge of a cliff, let alone what that creature might do to her. A shiver ran through her. She glanced back at the opening above her. Yes, something was there, and although it wasn't menacing, yet, she knew she had to get away from it, and that awful smell.

Wiggling over the seat, she angled across to the lowest point of the broken out window. A shard of glass grazed the palm of her hand, but she ignored it, bent on extricating herself from her would-be casket. Body halfway through the opening, she pulled out the flashlight. The thin beam cut through the darkness revealing twisted reminders of her once shiny red Honda scattered over the surface of an old streambed strewn with small stones. Long dried up, it seemed more like an old lava flow, frozen in its downhill course from an angry volcanic eruption. The dark rock glistened in places, like polished obsidian. Flicking off the flashlight, she tucked it into the zippered pocket at her hip, and then continued her progress out. Twice her jacket snagged on the punched-in and battered fender, and when she gouged her palm on the jagged bumper she didn't make a sound. Although she hoped her fear and racing heart were from something imagined, it seemed prudent to be as quiet as possible.

Once on the ground, she immediately squatted close to the mashed in roof. Which way? Taking out the flashlight, she shone it around and noticed a long strip of metal that had been torn from the car. Its sharp edge would make a decent weapon. Grasping the widest edge, which was almost as broad as her palm, she held it out like a short sword. Feeling less vulnerable, she let the light play over the area. Dark volcanic rock seemed to form a tight tunnel, perhaps ten feet in diameter, around her, and what she had assumed was something over the car was actually the ceiling. Sometime during the backward skid off the road, her car had managed to tumble into a small cave. Becky never would have found her.

The cavern appeared to widen slightly toward the front of the car, so she headed in that direction. The floor was free of any large rocks she might trip over, and when the small penlight beam weakened again, she felt she could make it out without the light. Just before she flicked it off, she noticed a number of animal bones near the center of the cave. Some were large with hunks of rotting flesh clinging to the remains. That was the origin of the awful stench. She did not want to consider what had killed the poor things and gingerly stepped closer to the wall, away from the carcasses. Soft shuffling behind her made the flesh on her back crawl and she pressed her body against the smooth wall of the cave. Breath held, she listened. What could it be? A coyote? A cougar? When she first got out of the car, she thought she was alone in the cave, but now it was clear that something had been concealed on the other side of the wreck. A tight grip on the metal blade, she held it out from her body and slowly inched along the rock, left hand feeling ahead.

With skin prickling, and fighting the urge to run, her body trembled as she tried to move as quietly as possible. The scuffing stopped. More careful than ever not to trip over any obstacles, she moved into a more cavernous area. Vague light seeped though rough openings in the jagged rocks lining the cave opening. She had to get out, and fast. A deep, rumbling growl echoed from somewhere close on the right. Pressing her body against the rock and quaking with terror, she slowly reached for the penlight. It seemed insane, but she had to see what was in there with her.

The narrow beam flashed and revealed a hulking beast she never could have imagined. An abomination, part bear, part wolf slavered less than five feet from her. When the light struck its eyes, reflecting a bloody red, it growled again and stood on its back legs. Now towering over her, its long-fingered paws clutched and grasped the air, taunting her with their curve-bladed ends. The massive head, lumpish, with round ears, ended in a long, wolf muzzle studded with yellow fangs. Mouth wide, the crimson tongue dripped as it curled and flicked over teeth designed to rip and tear flesh. Grayish-brown hair covered the bulky, muscular body, and her stomach rolled when she realized it was splashed and stained with blood.

Although completely terrified, she refused to allow herself to be resigned to death by the horrific creature. She was armed. If nothing more, perhaps she could bluff it into leaving her alone.

"Hey! Get away!" She shouted, voice as deep as she could make it. Maybe if she sounded tough, it would back off.

Wrong. It roared back, which set all the hairs on her body on end. One long arm swiped at her. She dodged and then backed toward the opening, holding the metal wedge between herself and the monster. It dropped down to all fours. The shaggy, humped back rippled as it moved with her, equaling her pace toward the woods beyond. She bumped into something and swung the tiny beam around. At the entrance of the cave, a jumble of rock blocked any further easy exit. The light dimmed and she swung it back just in time to see the creature had gained ground and was only three feet away. Heart in her throat, she poked the blade at it and it stopped with another rumbling growl.

With the battery fading, she knew she had only one chance to escape. She put the penlight in her mouth and kept it trained on the creature as she slowly knelt down and grasped a rock the size of a softball. Near enough to touch, the odor from the beast was suffocating, a combination of blood and a greasy, oily stench that made her stomach roll. As it breathed, it chuffed out air in acrid gusts of rotting decay. Whatever the thing was, it seemed to be toying with her, relishing her terror, its ferocious eyes assessing her every move. A quick turn of her head showed a rock-strewn gap in the boulders, the only way out. Just as quickly, she trained the failing beam back on the monster. Still watching her, it ran its tongue languidly over the sharp, curved fangs lining its jaw. When its body tensed, as if about to spring, she thrust the blade into its neck, then crashed the rock against its snout with all her strength.

A roar of pain shook the cave as it reared up, spraying blood from its neck, nose and broken upper jaw and pawed at the shaft of the metal blade protruding from its throat. Not waiting to see what else it might do, she bolted for the woods. Tripping and stumbling, she somehow kept her feet as she zigzagged, hoping to out-maneuver the beast. With just enough light to make out large obstacles, she managed to make her way to the woods, checking over her shoulder for the approach of the monster. To her relief, it hadn't followed. She paused, listening. The night was silent, except for her own ragged breaths. She turned, and then made her way up a steep incline, hoping the road was somewhere above.

"Dale, are you sure you don't want us to call a doctor? What you told us sounds more like the wild imaginings of a traumatized brain."

She looked at Becky and shook her head. "How do you explain all this blood on me then?"

"Head wounds bleed a lot. It's yours, not some strange, monstrous creature's."

Dale looked at her friends, the concern on their faces genuine, even if they would never believe her. At least she knew the truth. Exhausted, she slipped her purse off her shoulder and dropped it to the floor where it spilled. Gary stooped to gather it up and froze.

"My God!"

Probably knocked out by the rock, then spit into her open purse before she ran, there on the floor lay a bloody fang as long as her index finger.

She gazed at it, then to their shocked faces.  Something of her normal, mischievous self surfaced. They had, after all, come to celebrate Halloween with scary stories.  "I guess the best ending for this story would be... When I got back home, I found my aggravating boyfriend with a broken nose, a front tooth knocked out, and a bad shaving cut on his neck."

--end--

© Sharen Nehoda 2001

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