The Lurking Season Read online

  The legends were true. The creatures were real. And now they’re back!

  People have whispered about the tiny humanoid creatures in the woods and cornfields of Doverton for decades. Three years ago a wildfire devoured much of the rural village, but as the ashes were cleared, more questions were uncovered—including abandoned houses, missing people and dead bodies. Since the fire seemed to wipe out the majority of the town’s woodland acres, the murmurs about the creatures have gone quiet. The residents have begun to rebuild their lives, trying to forget about the tragedy that nearly killed them all. Yet the mysteries remained unsolved.

  Now a group of people will go there with good intentions, venturing into the dead heart of Doverton, thinking it’s safe. But they will find out that the legend was only sleeping. Now it’s awake. And ready to kill again.

  The Lurking Season

  Kristopher Rufty

  Dedication

  For Angie

  Brooke

  Brooke Brown opened the bag of popcorn, careful to protect her fingers from the steam as it curled out. The heat licked her fingertips. When she managed to get the bag all the way open, she shook out the popcorn into a large bowl on the counter. She opened the cabinet above her and mined around boxes of Little Debbie treats, bags of potato chips and fruit cups to find the bottle of movie-theater butter. She squirted lines of gold across the white puffs.

  She tossed a couple pieces into her mouth. It tasted salty and good.

  “Need any help in there?” called Tom from the living room.

  “I got it,” she answered.

  “You sure?”

  Brooke smirked. “Yes. I’m sure.” She was aware of how long she’d been in the kitchen. But for the perfect quality of popcorn, she needed to be close to the microwave and listening for the pops. If she weren’t here to pay attention, that ran the risk of burning the kernels. And blackened popcorn tasted like cardboard that had been left out in the rain.

  She heard Tom’s faint chuckle.

  He’ll understand once he gets a taste.

  Tom, her boyfriend of ten months, wasn’t supposed to be in the house when her parents weren’t home. Since Mom and Dad sprang their weekend getaway on her at the last minute, leaving her to babysit her thirteen-year-old sister, Maggie, she felt it was her duty to intentionally break their revered rule.

  Plus, Brooke and Tom had planned on going to Tina Monroe’s graduation party. It was all everyone at Cradle Elk High School had been talking about since spring break. Maybe later she’d feel guilty about disobeying her parents, but, right now, she was enjoying it far too much to care.

  Grabbing a handful, Brooke chewed until her hand was empty. Small drops of butter remained on her fingers. She licked them off.

  Crossing the kitchen, she stole two cans of Bud Light from Dad’s stash in the drawer at the bottom of the fridge. She held a can in each hand. He probably wouldn’t notice the missing booze. He hadn’t the other times she’d embezzled some of his supply.

  But what if he counted them before he left?

  Pausing halfway across the kitchen, Brooke slowly turned around. She peered at the fridge. It was just the kind of thing Dad would do. He acted like he trusted her, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d taken a beer inventory before leaving this morning.

  Suddenly the beers felt too cold for her hands. Damn it. Sighing, Brooke headed back to the fridge, returned the beers and grabbed two cans of Dr Pepper Cherry instead.

  Palming both cans in one hand, she hooked the bowl in her arm and left the kitchen. She didn’t bother cutting off the light, knowing how anal her father was about the power bill. Seeing the small spike on the statement next month would ruffle his feathers for sure.

  Tom, leaning back on the couch, had his feet propped on the coffee table. An arm was stretched across the top of the couch, saving the seat in the nook of his body for her. His head turned when she entered the room. He smiled. “There you are. Thought I was going to have to start watching the movie without you.”

  “You better not,” she said, “or I won’t share my popcorn.”

  Tom laughed softly. “Help you?”

  “Thanks.”

  He took the sodas and set them on the coffee table. The aluminum clanked against the glass surface. “Popcorn smells good.”

  Sitting down, Brooke scooted as close to Tom as she could. His arm returned to the spot on the couch it had been, but now draped behind her neck. “It is good.”

  “Did you add butter?” He wrinkled his nose as he looked into the bowl.

  “Maybe.”

  “Smells just like the kind you get at the movies.”

  “Well, tonight you’re at Brooke’s Theater.” She waved her hand at the LED TV. A horror movie’s DVD menu screen looped every few seconds. Brooke had ordered the DVD on the internet earlier in the week and it had arrived today. She’d purchased it for Tom and her to enjoy someday. She’d even loaned Maggie one of her other horror movies to keep her occupied in her room while Tom was here.

  Brooke set the bowl in Tom’s lap. His legs flinched when it bumped against his crotch. She smiled, knowing he was probably already hard and they hadn’t even fooled around.

  Yet.

  Tom was always hard. Seemed he had a constant boner whenever he was around her. She liked it. Made her feel sexy, powerful.

  Raising the remote, she waved it back and forth. “Ready?”

  “In a minute,” he said, leaning in.

  Smiling, Brooke met him halfway. Their lips touched. There were no soft romantic teases with their mouths, only the intense friction of lovers who’d been without each other for months, though she’d only just seen him last night. The room filled with the soft, wet smacks of their kisses as their tongues rolled around.

  She felt the heat of his hand on her thigh, kneading. It slipped higher up her bare leg, vanishing under her skirt. The tapping of his fingers against her panties brought a shudder. Opening her legs, his hand began to rub the crotch of her panties. Slow at first, the tempo quickly sped to an eager pace. She realized he was trying to get his hand inside her panties. From how she was sitting, it was putting pressure on her rump, which pulled her panties taut against her sex.

  “Hang on,” she said.

  Tom moved his hand.

  Reaching under her skirt, Brooke pulled her panties to the side. “Better?”

  Tom’s finger slipped inside of her.

  Brooke gasped.

  “You tell me.”

  Brooke only nodded as his finger prodded. She was opening her mouth to moan when—

  “What are you doing?”

  “Yaa!” Brooke shoved Tom away. The bowl of popcorn tumbled off Tom’s lap, landing on the floor facedown. Whipping her head around, she found Maggie standing at the edge of the hallway, wearing a pair of lounge shorts and an overlong T-shirt that was probably Dad’s. Brooke tucked her skirt between her legs, then crossed them.

  Maggie moved her eyes from Brooke to Tom, then back to Brooke, their sizes rounding. “He’s not supposed to be here.”

  “And you better not say anything,” warned Brooke.

  Maggie chewed at her bottom lip.

  “After all, I let you borrow that movie you’ve been begging to watch, didn’t I?”

  “Well…”

  “The one Mom and Dad won’t let you watch, remember?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “And if you tell on me, then I’ll have to tell them you watched the movie.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  Holding out her hands, Brooke raised her shoulde
rs. “My hands would be tied.”

  Maggie’s lip trembled. “You tricked me.”

  “Tricked you?”

  “I thought you were being nice, but now I see you just wanted to blackmail me.”

  Brooke suddenly felt bad. “No, I…”

  “I knew you didn’t want me around.”

  “Mag—”

  “Do you?” Tears appeared in her eyes, like twinkling diamonds.

  Remembering how emotional her sister could get, Brooke leaned forward, holding her hand out. “Maggie…that’s not it…”

  “Sure it is. Have fun with your boyfriend. I won’t tell. You’ll never have to worry about me again!”

  What the hell does that mean?

  Maggie spun around and padded down the hall. Her heavy footfalls shook the house. Brooke could hear the stairs groan as her little sister stomped up them.

  “Shit,” muttered Brooke.

  “Um…” Tom squirmed as he tugged at the crotch of his pants. Brooke glimpsed the bulge momentarily before he sat back. He looked very uncomfortable. “Should I leave?”

  “No, don’t.”

  “She seems really upset.”

  Brooke had never seen Maggie so…dismayed. She was a bit of a spoiled brat who overreacted constantly. But tonight she had good reason to. Brooke had legitimately broken her sister’s heart.

  Now she felt lousy for it.

  “I should probably go talk to her,” she said, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Damn.”

  Something clattered upstairs. The ceiling squeaked with the pacing of footsteps. A door banged shut.

  Maggie’s room was directly above them and it sounded as if she was throwing a fit up there.

  “I’ll be here…” Tom raised an eyebrow, “…if you’re sure I shouldn’t leave.”

  That was twice he’d mentioned leaving. She wondered if it was because of the scene he’d just witnessed, or if he just really wanted to go to Tina’s party. Maybe a little of both. She was positive, if he left, the party was where he’d go. And Brooke did not want him going without her. Too many girls would love to get their hungry claws into him.

  “No. Stay. For me?”

  Tom smiled. “Of course.”

  Another muffled bump resonated through the ceiling. Some light scuffling followed. Brooke had no idea what her sister was doing. Hopefully she hadn’t broken her DVD to prove how angry she was. “I better get up there,” Brooke said.

  “No problem.”

  She leaned in, got another quick kiss from Tom and stood up. Tom’s hand stroked her silky thigh. “I like your outfit.”

  “I wore it for you.”

  She adjusted her skirt and the revealing tank top she’d intentionally chosen for tonight. Low cut, it clung to her breasts above the nipples and left the smooth gradients exposed. The bottom reached her navel and hiked up to show skin whenever she bent over. Dad hated the shirt and never allowed her to wear it anywhere, not even at home.

  “Well, hurry back so I can enjoy it some more. I’ll clean this up.” He nudged the dropped popcorn bowl with the toe of his shoe.

  Brooke groaned. She’d have to pop some more before they started the movie. “Be back in a few.”

  Reluctantly, she pulled away from Tom’s stroking hand, and hurried to the stairs. At the bottom step, she gazed upward. Shadows piled in the hallway. The light up there was off. As much of a tightwad as her father was, that was the one light he demanded to remain on. Too many accidents could happen, he said. So why was it off now? She hadn’t turned it off and couldn’t think of any reason why Maggie would. Nor could she determine why any of it mattered.

  Carefully climbing the stairs, Brooke glided her fingers along the railing. It felt flat and cool under her hand. The stairs squeaked with each step.

  At the top, Brooke placed her hands on her hips. Listened. She could just barely detect the faintest of gasping sounds. She is crying. Brooke sighed. Way to go, bitch. Make your baby sister cry just so you can fool around with Tom. Heading for Maggie’s bedroom across the hall, Brooke was already working up an apology in her head.

  Then something crunched under her foot and all her ideas evaporated.

  Brooke paused. Looking down, she spotted white fragments spread across the carpet like spilled potato chips. The milk-colored surfaces seemed to glow in the dark. She sank to a crouch, gently rubbing her fingers across the unknown objects. Slightly smooth and powdery, she noted the pricking edges as her fingertips skated across.

  She looked above her. Where there was normally a bubble-shaped light cover was nothing but empty blackness.

  That explains the racket.

  Maggie must have busted the light. How? Frowning, Brooke chewed the inside of her lip.

  Throw something at it?

  She looked back down at the mess.

  Had to be it. She’s not tall enough to hit it. Neither am I. Not without a chair.

  Brooke stood up.

  Would Maggie do something like that? It was the only reasonable explanation she could think of. She turned to Maggie’s shut bedroom door. Brooke took a long stride over the sharp debris. Only slight crunches were felt under her shoes when they touched back down.

  Brooke saw something small and round on the floor. She lightly kicked it, watching it roll against the wall. There was a faint peck when it hit the trim.

  A rock?

  She bumped it with her foot again. It felt hard and small under her shoe. Definitely a rock. A weak chill tried to creep up her back.

  Maggie wouldn’t go this far.

  If not her, then who?

  She’s the only who could have done this. Probably her idea to get me in trouble. Bust the light so we have to tell Dad what happened.

  Brooke felt a slight tremor of panic working inside. Dad’s reaction to her constant bickering with Maggie was never pleasant. This would be catastrophic. And once Mom’s say-so was added, there was no hope for either her or Maggie.

  Brooke’s hand gripped the doorknob, twisted, and threw it open. She was opening her mouth to bark something mean but her words died in her throat.

  Everything was all wrong. Her sister’s desk was turned on its side, the contents on top spilled all over the floor. The lamp was smashed. Usually the desk was in front of the window since Maggie enjoyed looking outside while she did her homework or painted. Now her paint was on the floor as well, leaking a canvas of colors on the carpet.

  Her eyes moved up from the mess to the window. It was open. Maggie straddled the sill like a horse, one leg inside and the other thrown through the open space. Blankets held together by knots were tied to a leg of her bedframe and led across the floor and up the wall where it went out the window. The makeshift rope trembled on the floor as Maggie pulled it taut.

  “Maggie…?”

  Her sister froze, gripping the rope of blankets with both hands. She slowly turned her head. Gasping, Brooke took an involuntary step back.

  Her face…

  Wavy lines of red came down her cheeks from her eyes. It looked as if she’d raked her fingernails across her own skin in a fit. Seeing the blots of red on her fingertips, Brooke assumed that was exactly what she’d done. More blood trickled from her mouth, dabbing her bottom lip as if it were lipstick.

  “What…is…this?” stammered Brooke.

  “They’re taking me with them,” said Maggie, spitting blood. In the quick glimpse of her open mouth, Brooke thought she saw sharp teeth.

  “What are you talking about?” Brooke grimaced. “What did you do to yourself?”

  “I’m trying to look like them.”

  She smiled, showing a crude set of fangs. Brooke jerked as if she’d been hit.

  How’d she do it so fast?

  “They said one day I might be their queen!” Maggie folded her hands togeth
er. She brought them to her chest and sighed as if she were in love. “Me, their queen.”

  Brooke was terrified of her sister in this moment. Who was she talking about?

  Brooke asked her.

  “Them,” said Maggie, pointing across the room.

  Brooke followed the path of air from the tip of Maggie’s finger to the bed. Her eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled. “What are you—?” Her words petered out as if a volume knob to her voice was lowered.

  Maggie continued talking. “I just started feeding them, you know? I thought they were cute. They were friendly and looked so hungry…I felt bad for them…”

  Brooke’s eyes landed on Maggie’s new friends.

  “They’re the ones from the fire,” Maggie stammered. “Remember the fire? Burned down all those farms… That’s where they came from…”

  Maggie’s voice sounded muted and hollow to Brooke, as if she were speaking from deep inside a cavern. Her focus had been stolen by the half-dozen miniature creatures standing shoulder to tiny shoulder on top of Maggie’s bed. Dressed in crudely stitched burlap garments, tattered hoods hanging partway down their pruned faces, they were armed with miniscule spears the length of rulers and looked as if they’d come from toy packages. The little things could have passed for hideous plush dolls. But when wedges of sharp teeth appeared on their withered faces, she knew these creatures were anything but.

  And the realization that the legends she’d heard growing up were true slapped her like an opened hand. Her grandmother’s warnings replayed in her mind. Stay out of the cornfields! The Haunchies’ll get you! As a child, she’d believed there were tiny creatures slinking amongst the corn, ready to snatch her if she ever wandered away from her parents. But, just like other childhood fantasies, the Haunchies had become nothing more than a ghost story.

  Another memory of her around Maggie’s age struck her. She was in a corn maze patterned after the Haunchy legend. Teenagers dressed in rags jumped out from behind hay bales and yelled boo.

  These things in Maggie’s room weren’t teenagers. No larger than an infant, they were ugly, deformed. Atrocious.

  And Maggie’s been feeding these fuckers!?! Has she been hiding them in her room?