A Formidable Buzz

Jenny had a gut feeling that made her insides rumble like thunder. A tingling started up her neck and reached her scalp making her head buzz like it was filled with angry hornets. Her hands drifted to the bottom of the steering wheel. She slowed her car down, the fresh white snow crunching underneath her tires as she began to pass Woodson Road. The buzzing continued. Her eyes focused on the narrowing of the snow-covered dirt road surrounded by evergreens. It looked like it stretched for an eternity. The white snowfall accented the iron archway of the Woodson Bridge in all its daunting glory. Underneath it a steadily flowing river that swept up anything that dared enter it rushed over large boulders causing rapids.

The old Woodson Bridge always left Jenny feeling unsettled. She thought it was the strength of the rapids; just knowing you could get swept up if one accident happened. Jenny and her cousin used to play with his slingshot near the river, aiming at tree trunks in the surrounding foliage. They had a couple of near-misses, but one time in particular she remembers her cousin daring her to cross the river and using his slingshot, which Jenny desperately wanted, as bait. She almost did it too, just to prove she wasn’t a coward and because she wanted the slingshot so badly. She was always a better shot than him and she would be lying if, just for that reason, she said she didn’t feel slightly entitled to it. Fortunately, they always got distracted playing and Jenny never completed the dare. She was smart enough to know as a child and as an adult that the rapids were not to be challenged.

“What the hell?” Jenny said to herself in frustration. She put one hand on her stomach and pulled her car over to the side of the highway, feeling the bile bubble up into her throat. Jenny leaned back in her leather seat, closed her eyes, and tried to breathe. She was certain this was an anxiety attack. She got those, every once in a while, she’d just get these feelings. These moments of anxiety annoyed Jenny. She prided herself on being practical and rational. These anxiety attacks were anything but that. Most came on for seemingly no reason at all and left her depleted for a few hours afterward, sometimes until the following day. They usually amounted to nothing and she assumed that this episode was no different, although it felt different, more intense than she was used to. She felt the blood rush to her head. “Deep breaths.” She told herself, her voice shaking. Opening her eyes she turned her head on the seat and peered down the road. Something deep down inside of her was telling her to go look just beyond that awful bridge. It called to her and she felt, for some strange reason, that this would relieve her anxiety. The prospect of relief from the terrible attack prompted Jenny to act quickly.

Jenny cut the ignition and tightened up her snow boots. She glanced over at her passenger seat where she had set down a missing flyer that she received earlier that day. It read: “Missing: Roan Doyle, Age: 10, Last seen at Clarke Elementary. Call Steph Doyle at....” and it gave her number. His mother, Steph, had handed it to her with red, swollen eyes ringed in dark circles at the hardware store that Jenny owned. “If you see anything. Please.” She said, voice quavering as she looked at Jenny, her eyes blurry with tears. Seeing a mother like that unnerved Jenny. She didn’t have children. Imagining the pain that Steph must be facing at that moment broke her heart.

She headed outside, her thick cotton-canvas jacket weighed on her shoulders and kept her warm. The deciduous trees hung heavy with snow, some of the branches looked like they were going to give if one more snowflake fell on them. Taking a deep breath in, Jenny felt her nostrils stick together. It was frigid cold this time of year in New York State but Jenny didn’t mind. She liked the quietness that the winter brought as if everything was just taking a break. It made her feel like she could relax too.

She started down Woodson Road toward the bridge her breath making little puffy clouds in front of her. The steadiness of it began to calm some of her anxiety but she still had an ominous ringing in the back of her mind. She exhaled deeply and felt the hot moisture of her breath warm her cheeks. For a fleeting moment the anxiety left, but it came rushing back as she headed toward the bridge. It felt like it was clawing at her, wanting her to see something. “But what?” Jenny thought. There was nothing to see but fresh white snow. She kept looking around the area expecting to see something or someone behind every tree but she saw nothing.

Walking across the bridge she stopped and looked over and saw the cold rapids rushing over the rocks. A few water droplets managed to land on her nose from the violent river below. She could feel the light taps on her already chilled nose, like whispers from a ghost. Jenny shook her head, she didn’t believe in ghosts. “What has gotten into me?” She thought. Jenny placed a glove-covered hand over her nose to warm it up and looked around. Nothing. Turning back Jenny headed to her car. She tried to ignore the gut-churning feeling to stay, to explore more, to go into the surrounding trees. She was not equipped to do that nor did she feel comfortable. If something happened to her out here nobody would find her until summer.

What else could she do? She had looked around, used her senses, her eyes and ears, and found nothing. There was no evidence that anyone had been there after the snowfall last night. The only tracks were hers. Jenny didn’t know what she expected, just that she thought she’d see something, something to give her some resolution to this awful feeling. As she walked back to her car, without thinking she put a hand on her holster and felt her revolver. She was glad she had it there, especially at that moment. The smooth wooden handle of the gun reminded her of how powerful it was and how much responsibility she felt carrying it with her. You never knew when you would need to protect yourself when you lived as far away from any police station or hospital as Jenny did. Unnerved, she was glad to leave Woodson Road and the bridge. Although she lived close to this dreaded place, she couldn’t wait to get home and lock the door.

Jenny tossed and turned all night. She had awful nightmares of Woodson Road and the bridge. In her dream she was standing at the beginning of the bridge, everything was dark all around her. The metal arches loomed over her like tyrants. Trying to hold her flashlight steady she began to tiptoe across the bridge. Every step she took felt like she was walking on ice. No matter how many steps she took she didn’t advance across the bridge, it kept extending and extending. The ominous feeling was growing deep inside of her making her feel like she was going to burst. Her breaths were slow, drawn, and felt like they were in slow motion. With an unsteady hand, she aimed her flashlight down at the freshly fallen snow. Little dots of crimson danced along its surface. Seemingly hypnotized, she couldn’t take her eyes off of them. She stayed like that for a while, unable or unwilling to look up. Afraid to lift her flashlight and see what was on the other side of the bridge she remained frozen in that spot. Something was standing on the other side of the bridge taunting her to look at it, she could feel it, but Jenny did not give in. She couldn’t. She tried to kick her legs and shake herself awake. It was working. Feeling herself leaving her dreamscape her flashlight jolted up. The last thing Jenny saw was a dark figure standing on the other side of Woodson Bridge. She woke up with a knot in her stomach.

Panting and covered in sweat Jenny put her hands under her sticky hair and lifted it off of her neck to cool herself down. She looked at the clock, 4:36 a.m. At 5:00 her alarm would go off anyway so there was no point trying to go back to sleep. Plus, she didn’t want to reenter the nightmare under any circumstance. Uneasy and dissatisfied Jenny put her feet on the cold tile. As soon as her feet touched the ground, her cat Jones came prancing into her room. The old brown tabby rubbed on her legs and purred. This small gesture soothed her. Jones looked up at Jenny, eyes wide and begging, and let out a long mew. He was hungry and probably glad that he would be getting his breakfast early this morning.

She went about her morning in the usual way. It was so plain that she had almost forgotten about that terrible nightmare. She got dressed in her work clothes and pulled her hair back into a loose bun, made coffee, fed Jones, and grabbed something small to eat as she headed out the door. The winter air was crisp and refreshing. New snow had fallen since she came home last night. It coated everything and was so serene that the upset she felt yesterday felt like a distant memory. Today would be a new start, no anxiety, just focus. But as soon as she began brushing off her car she felt a pang of anxiety attempting to blossom. She didn’t want to pass Woodson Road or the bridge this morning. Especially since it would be dark still when she passed. “This is absurd,” Jenny told herself. “I’m not afraid of Woodson Road or a bridge. That’s pathetic.” But the feeling persisted, like a tiny sprout of fear just waiting for some water to grow into a full-blown anxiety attack.

Jenny slammed her car door shut. She sat in her car for a moment telling herself that it was only to let it warm up but really it was because she didn’t want to pass that bridge. She was afraid she would see her nightmare. This fear was not going to stop her from doing so though, quite the opposite. Jenny had never let her fears and anxieties run her life. She always felt that it was best to face them head-on. Pulling out of her driveway she headed down the old country road leading into town. Her anxiety grew as she drew closer to Woodson Road. As she was upon it Jenny felt a searing pain shoot up from her stomach into her head. For a moment her vision blurred. Out of fear for her safety, she pulled the car over, as she did yesterday, and decided to wait out some of this anxiety. As Jenny closed her eyes and tried to rest visions of the nightmare she had the night before appeared in her mind's eye. She opened her eyes and looked down the long stretch of dark lonely road. She felt drawn to it again, drawn to the bridge, but there was no way she was going to get out of her car and explore on foot. She was scared but she knew that she had to face her fears head-on if she was ever going to conquer this awful feeling. Plus, there should be nothing there, just snow on the other side. Once explored, Jenny felt she could put this anxiety to rest once and for all, and with that, she put her car into drive and slowly headed down Woodson Road.

Fresh tire marks were leading down the road, big broad ones that were deep like a van or a truck that had specialty tires with chains. Jenny knew of some people who had property out this way but they were summer homes, they weren’t usually out there this time of year, moreover, none of them had chains on their car tires. Jenny felt her guts churn with anxiety. Every inch she drove made it more unbearable. She put her hand on her stomach to calm herself down. “Remember deep breaths.” She said to herself, faking patience. She followed the tire marks to the bridge and began to cross it. With all of the trees, it was extra dark in the winter mornings. Her headlights lay in stark contrast to her surroundings piercing through the thick black void.

She was at the other side of the bridge when all of the sudden her headlights illuminated a flash of color speckled across the freshly fallen snow. Her heart sank. She saw two sets of footprints too, one large and one small, a child’s, next to a 1994 Chevy Silverado truck with chains on the tires. Heart pounding, Jenny put her car in park. Sweat dripped down her face and she felt a tear well up in her eye. Something happened here, she felt it, and she saw the evidence it left behind. Shaking, Jenny opened up the glove compartment and pulled out a flashlight. She placed a hand on her hip and felt for her revolver. It was never loaded before work of course, but Jenny had some spare bullets under her seat, just in case. She loaded them into the gun and gave the bullet chamber a spin. Then she cut the engine and turned on the flashlight. Stepping out of the car she examined the road. Large snowflakes began to fall and for a fleeting moment, if you looked up at the sky you could almost feel peace. Jenny wanted so badly to feel that now, to have this all be a bad dream where she would wake up in her bed like she did this morning with Jones mewing at her expecting his breakfast. But she was here; this was not her home, not even close. She looked up at the sky, trying not to acknowledge what she had found, and felt a tear fall down her cheek.

Underneath her feet were footprints and drag marks from someone trying to grab at the freshly fallen snow, small pools of blood intermingled with the tracks. Jenny knelt to get a closer look at where the tracks were pointing and noticed that they lead into the darkness of the evergreens. A small opening had been made from someone pushing through the branches. Jenny held her flashlight at the opening and reached for her flip phone. No signal. Suddenly, there was a rustling in the evergreen and Jenny saw a dark shadow. Fingers clenched tight around her flashlight in her right hand, she put her hand on her holster with the left. She held the light steady as a little figure immerged from the darkness, Jenny recognized him, it was Roan.

The little boy was covered in dirt and blood; his clothes were tattered and torn. He cried, his lip quivering, “Help me.” Then began sobbing, “Please take me home.” Jenny slowly moved closer to Roan. She was about 15 feet away from him when she saw his eyes dart to the side to look in his peripheral vision. She stopped and pulled her gun out of the holster. “Where is the person that took you, Roan? I saw your mom yesterday. She said you were missing.” Roan didn’t answer just wept, deep, harsh animal cries. Then in the darkness behind Roan, Jenny saw another figure.

      His hands reached around Roan’s small skinny shoulders and as they came into view Jenny’s eyes widened with fear. His hands were massive and strong. They looked like lethal weapons, blackened with filth and blood. His fingernails were caked with dirt. The man tightly clenched Roan’s shoulders and the boy flinched. “Let go of him!” Jenny cried. Her gun began shaking in her hand. A gravelly deep voice emerged from the darkness raw and malevolent. “And what will do you do if I don’t? Shoot me?” He began to cachinnate. His wet breath made clouds like an old steam engine. The stranger felt powerful and in control of the situation, Jenny could tell. “Do you really think I am afraid to die? Afraid to see him die?” He clenched Roan’s shoulders so hard that this time the child winced and cried out in pain. Just then Jenny could see the outline of the madman’s face in the darkness, the shine of his eyes, and a large toothy grin that spread across his face as he laughed. Her legs shook but she stood her ground. Jenny was strong-willed if nothing else.

As the man continued laughing his grip must have lessened because Roan jumped and squirmed under the man’s massive hands and broke free. He began running toward Jenny and the man from the darkness lunged out at him to grab his legs, his face contorted in anger. The man almost looked bewildered, like he had never lost control before and he was furious about it. Roan fell to the ground trying to grip loose snow and frozen dirt, panicking as the man tried to hold on to his legs. Still bent over, the stranger began to pull Roan towards him again frantically. That same sick toothy grin spread across his face. He thought he had won. He thought he could make them all disappear forever but he didn’t know that Jenny was a good shot. Jenny saw her moment and she took a deep breath. She aimed at him with her sights, pulled back the release, and pulled the trigger.