Dead Spots (9 page)

“I'm so hungry!” The desperate cry echoed in the clearing.

Mackenzie didn't look back as she fled.

 

CHAPTER 6

The door listed on a broken hinge under a faded sign. Yellowed newspaper adorned the windows. The glittering facade had vanished, revealing the broken building beneath. There was no sign of the cannibal woman. By the time they'd reached the road, her cries had stopped and she'd vanished.

“We need to go,” Grant said.

“Why are you still here?” she asked finally. “Why didn't you disappear with the others?”

“Because I'm not like the others. I'm not a dead spot creation and I'm not a wraith. I am trapped just like you.”

“That woman who was eating herself and all the others were … wraiths?”

“That's what they're called.”

“By who?”

“People who enter the dead spots. We really should go now.”

Mackenzie clutched the big tote bag tightly to her body, almost as if it were a shield between her and the man in the gray suit. “So when I went into the café to explore, I entered a dead spot.”

“Yes.”

“And the reason you yelled about the door when you first saw me is because…”

“If the door had remained open, we could have escaped. But it closed, so we're trapped.”

Mackenzie reflected on Grant's mad dash to the front entrance when she had first encountered him. “But I didn't close the door.”

“They always close on their own. You just have to get there before it closes and traps you,” Grant answered with a slight shrug.

“What if we go back in, shut the door, and open it?”

“We'll still be in the dead spot. A door can only be opened from the outside world. Sometimes it opens in one world, but not the other.”

“That's stupid,” Mackenzie declared.

“It's how it works,” Grant said, lifting his shoulders.

“Why should I listen to you? I'm probably imagining you.”

Shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, Grant sighed wearily, his broad shoulders slumping. “It would be easier if you just believed that all of this is real.”

Pressing her hand to her brow, Mackenzie stared toward the café. “It all started in there. It has to be the way out, too.”

“But it's not. We need to get going.” Grant gestured toward the road. “We've hung around here far too long as it is.”

“Where will we go?”

“I'm not sure yet, but we really need to get moving.”

Strange, rasping birdcalls issued out of the surrounding woods. Uneasy, she suddenly had the uncanny impression that she was being watched. A quick check of the café revealed that it was still a ruined structure. The windows were papered and boarded up.

“Why?”

“Because the dead spot is going to start messing with us again if we don't.”

“Like the baby carriage and the cannibal woman?”

“Yes.”

“Say no more. Let's go.”

Walking briskly along the road, Mackenzie tried to resist the urge to rub her watering eyes. She had only caught a whiff of the pepper spray, but it had been enough to make her nose run and her throat burn. Head lowered to protect her smarting eyes from the wind, Mackenzie stared at the beautiful designs flitting across the road created by the sunlight filtering through the branches of the bordering pines. She kept the pepper spray canister in one hand, still unnerved by the earlier tussle with the gruesome woman.

“Aren't you worried about cars?” Mackenzie asked after a few minutes.

“We'll hear them if one comes this way,” Grant assured her. “Besides, cars are rare in the dead spots. People can't make them run.”

Maybe the pill she had taken was working, or maybe it was just a placebo effect, but Mackenzie felt more calm than afraid now that she was away from the café. To actually be moving away from the building and the strange events that had occurred within was a great relief. Her head still throbbed, tendrils of discomfort still slinking up her neck to prod at her brain, but the knots between her shoulders were loosening.

“Thank you, by the way,” Mackenzie said after a few more minutes. “For trying to help me.”

“My people skills are a little rusty, so I probably haven't been as sociable as I should be. I've been on my own for a while now.” He gave her a charmingly sheepish smile.

The clomping of her boot heels against the pavement matched the soft slap of his loafers. They walked side by side, Mackenzie gripping her pepper spray in one hand, her tote purse in the other. Grant appeared much more relaxed with his hands in his trouser pockets.

“Why have you been on your own?” Mackenzie wiped her wet cheekbones with the back of her hand. Her eyes weren't stinging as much now.

Grant's smile faded a bit. He glanced into the woods on either side as though determining if they were being watched or not. “Well, the person I was with … died.”

“How?” Mackenzie asked, aghast.

“Wraiths,” he answered.

“What exactly are wraiths?”

“The creatures that hunt us. Feed off our fear.”

“Like that woman back there?”

“Something like that.”

“How did the person die?” Mackenzie dared to ask, though dreading his answer.

“They gave in to their worst fear and died.” Grant's voice was even, but he ducked his head so she couldn't see his face clearly.

“I'm sorry,” Mackenzie whispered, understanding the loss of a loved one all too well.

“The dead spots and wraiths feed off of emotion. Strong emotions are best. Fear … they like us to fear.”

Mackenzie glanced warily into the forest. Nothing seemed amiss. Plants slightly swayed in the wind, birds sang, and the branches creaked in the canopy above.

“The one we were in was still sorting you out, so that's why we had to flee,” Grant said, glancing her way.

“Why didn't it attack using what
you
fear? Why me?”

“I've learned to control my fears over time. How to not let them get ahold of me. But you're fresh, new, full of life. Untainted. It wanted to play with you.”

His words felt like tiny stabs into her psyche. Stopping in midstep, she shivered as a wave of anxiety flowed over her. She braced herself for the worst of the attack, but the anxiety began to ebb away. The Xanax was definitely working.

Grant turned to take hold of her shoulders. Stooping, he peered into her eyes. “Mackenzie, don't start to panic.”

“I'm okay,” she said, smiling with relief. “I think the Xanax is kicking in.”

Grant studied her face for a second, then dropped his hands. “Good. Good. We need to find someplace to stay before nightfall. I think there's an abandoned house a few miles up the road. Another dead spot.”

“Won't that be bad?”

“No, no. That's the other thing about dead spots. We can take control of them.”

Mackenzie rubbed her slightly aching head. “I'm getting confused.”

“When we get there, I'll show you. We really do need to hurry. At night it's always worse in this world. It's when the sleepers begin to affect it.”

“Sleepers?”

“What sleepers dream materializes in this world. That's why nightfall is always dangerous.”

“I want to wake up now,” she halfheartedly joked.

With sadness tinting his features, Grant slid an arm around her shoulders in a comforting motion that also enabled him to urge her forward. “I know you do. But you can't. You're in a different world now whether you want to accept that or not. It's best that you do accept it. It's safer.”

“This can't be real,” Mackenzie grumbled.

“Let's say it's not. Let's say it's all in your head. You still should play by the rules that are established, right?”

Mackenzie licked her lips, pondering his words. What he said somewhat made sense. If her mind was imposing this fictional world upon her, maybe she had no choice but to accept it. “I don't know.”

The rustling of the trees and the whisper of the wind should have been a comforting sound, but now it made her wary. Glancing into the forest, she frowned. The shade beneath the trees appeared thicker, gloomier. The sun's position in the sky indicated it was midafternoon, but the world was gradually being leeched of light.

“Grant,” she said in a hushed and frightened tone.

“I see it. Just keep walking.” He dropped his arm from her shoulder and took her hand. Setting a much more brisk pace, he hurried her up the road.

A strange sound emanated from the forest. It almost sounded like the hoot of an owl, but raspier. Mackenzie caught a glimmer of red out of her peripheral vision and dared to peer into the woods. Bright red eyes, round and unblinking, stared at her from high in the tree branches.

“Something is watching us,” she said, pointing.

Grant shot a worried look in the direction she indicated, but didn't answer. Instead, he broke into a run, tugging her along behind him. Mackenzie picked up her pace, trying not to stumble in her high-heeled boots while matching his speed. Clutching her pepper spray, she kept her gaze on the road ahead. The solo raspy hoot gave way to a chorus, the fluttering of wings whispering through the trees. Despite her determination not to give in to the temptation to take another look into the trees, she peeked anyway. Dozens of red orbs glimmered in the growing darkness.

“There's more!”

“Stop looking at them!”

“What are they?”

“Just run, Mackenzie!” He sounded annoyed and afraid. “We're almost to the turnoff.”

Shadows swarmed over the road, obscuring the sun. The loud flapping of wings overhead compelled her to duck her head as her hand slipped free from Grant's.

“Keep running, Mackenzie!”

The ragged hoots reverberated around them, the red eyes glinting on both sides of the road. The bright afternoon sunlight vanished below a raucous whirlwind of dark wings and glowing red eyes swirling above their heads. Mackenzie caught glimpses of furry bodies, glowing eyes, and feathered wings.

Lungs aching, thighs burning, and her side forming a painful stitch, Mackenzie fought to keep up with Grant. The primal need to flee forced her onward. A dark shape abruptly darted past her face, wings brushing her skin, a claw raking her cheek. Crying out, she sprawled onto the road. She landed hard on her hands and knees, scraping her palms. The pepper spray tumbled out of her hand and into the high grasses edging the road. Her purse skidded across the surface, spilling its contents and scattering them across the asphalt. Mackenzie snatched up the yellow baby blanket, rolled it back up, and shoved it into her purse before grabbing up the rest of the items that had fallen out. A quick scan of the area revealed that the bottle of Xanax had rolled close to the end of the pavement.

“Mackenzie, come on!” Grant's voice was muffled by the noise from above.

“I need to grab my pills!”

“Leave it!”

The fluttering of wings grew louder and she peered upward to see hundreds of small-winged creatures forming a spiral overhead. They moved so fast it was difficult to discern their actual appearance, but their bright, eerie red eyes and haunting calls felt distinctly threatening. Crawling rapidly forward, she reached for the bottle of Xanax.

There was a loud screech above her, and she threw up her arms to cover her head, anticipating an attack. Something soft brushed over her hands, then landed with a thump.

A small creature around two feet tall glared at her while it hopped toward the white bottle. Its face resembled an owl, but it had tall ears with tufts of black fur at the ends and a much longer, wickedly curved red beak. Its body was more like that of a bat, furry with leathery legs ending in long red talons. The wings were birdlike, black feathers with a hint of a red sheen.

Mackenzie cowered beneath the maelstrom of flapping wings, staring at the creature. There was a wrongness to it that bothered her. It bounced along the ground, its long tail fanning out aggressively behind it. As it neared the bottle Mackenzie realized what it wanted seconds before its clawed foot snatched it up.

“No!”

Lunging forward, Mackenzie swung the big purse at the animal. Its wings caught the air, pulling its body upward. The purse clipped its tail feathers and the bird screeched.

“Give that back!” She jumped at the creature, fingers grasping for the medication.

Something crashed into her shoulder blades, knocking her down. Crying out, she rolled away from her attacker and climbed to her knees. Two more of the strange birds hopped toward her, beaks darting forward menacingly. In the air, the thief joined the whirlwind of birds, still clutching the bottle of Xanax.

Climbing to her feet, Mackenzie kicked at the birds. They hissed, long forked tongues flicking out of their mouths. “What the hell are you?”

The two fiends daringly charged her, flapping their wings. Mackenzie again kicked at them, catching one of them and sending it hurtling into the brush. The remaining creature let out a low rasping growl, then jerked its head back twice. Its jaw unhinged, creating a gaping maw. It had not only a razor-sharp beak, but also hooked teeth in its expanded mouth.

“Shit.”

Mackenzie darted to one side, grabbing for the purse as the thing bounced after her. The second one popped back up and flew at her. Her boot heel snagged a rock, causing her foot to slip, and she crashed to the ground. The purse was inches away from her hand and she strained to grab it, while keeping an eye on the swiftly approaching predatory birds.

With a feral cry, Grant raced at the bird about to land on Mackenzie, a heavy stick raised over his head. The bird started, wings buffeting the air as it changed course and shot up to join the rest of its companions. The earthbound bird retreated, wings extended, its tongue flicking out of its grotesque mouth. Grant lunged, swinging at the creature's head. It took to the air, flapping as it hovered. Grant whacked at it several times, but it dodged out of his range and toward Mackenzie.