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Fiction Speculative Horror

“How much longer?” Hunter held the door handle to keep from sliding out of the seat. The truck lurched, flinging him toward the dash. He threw his hands up to brace himself, but he no longer had a grip on the door. Down on the floorboard he went.

“Pothole!” Codey yelled. He threw his head back laughing.

“Hilarious,” he glared at Codey and pulled himself up onto the seat. “This thing is a hazard, man! You never heard of a seatbelt?”

“Way before this girl’s time,” he patted the dash. “She’s a classic.”

“She’s a death trap! You should get rid of something when it’s this old,” Hunter held tight to the door handle. He wondered if this was how cowboys learned to ride those bucking horses in rodeos. “Really man, how much longer? I’d like to get there in one piece you know!”

“Just because something is old, that doesn’t mean you should just forget it,” Codey pointed ahead. Hunter could see a faint light. Trees reached across the dirt road almost forming a tunnel. He couldn’t figure how far the light was. It actually seemed to move away from them as they drove on.

“Just relax. We’ll be there soon,” Codey pointed to the cooler between them. “Have a sandwich or something.” Hunter dug through the ice. He came up with a ham sandwich and a soda. He held them out to Codey, who shook his head.

“Probably best,” Hunter said, unwrapping the sandwich. “You need to keep both hands on the wheel! Your driving is scaring me to death.” He took a bite and leaned back, “Hey, when was the last time you saw your family?”

“Long time,” he said with a sigh. “I can’t even remember,” he shook his head.

“Never been to a family reunion,” Hunter took another bite. “My family is not the get together type. They’re more the tear each other apart type.”

Codey nodded. He pointed again. The trees thinned and gave way to a clear night sky, and the moonlight greeted them. Codey slowed and guided the pickup across an open field towards an old, white church. He stopped under an oak tree and parked. “First ones,” he looked toward the church, “but everyone will be here soon.” The door squeaked as he got out of the truck.

Hunter jumped with a start, “That door could wake the dead!”

“Yea, it probably could! But I have those tools in the back if we get attacked by zombies,” Codey laughed. “I told you, she’s a classic. Her bones might creak, but she’s part of the family.”

“Even your truck is family?” Hunter smiled.

“Yea,” he replied, “we’ve been through a lot. I could never get rid of her. Family sticks together - forever.” He walked to the side of the church and motioned for Hunter to follow. They stopped at a rusted gate. “Cemetery,” Codey pushed and the gate let out a squeal. He looked over his shoulder, “Sounds like my truck, huh?”

Hunter nodded, “Sure does.” He hesitated, then laughed and followed Codey. “What are we doing now, just killing time?” He ran his fingers over a weathered headstone. The date in the stone, did it say 1879 or 1379? “Any of these your family?”

“Not anyone’s family really,” Codey replied. “Outcasts. Some were born with deformities or had mental issues. They were driven out of their communities.” He turned and pointed in a wide circle, “They found each other and made their own family here.” He looked at one of the markers, “A lot of them don’t have dates, some not even a name.” They walked further back. Codey pointed to one that had an “X” carved into it. Hunter noticed a line of graves marked with small black stones. He knelt and rubbed his hand across one. He looked up and Codey said, “Criminals, executed and dumped in a pit not too far away. Those five,” he pointed to another group of headstones, “carried the bodies here and buried them. No one knew their names, so they used the black stones.”

“Why would they do all that?” Hunter asked.

“They didn’t want them to die forgotten, like no one cared,” Codey picked one of the stones up and showed Hunter some writing on the back. Our Family Remembers You. He carefully replaced the stone, treating it as if it were fine crystal. “That’s one thing these people did, find others who were lost or abandoned and give them the family they didn’t have – even if it was after they died.”

“Funny, for something so old it looks like that was written with a Sharpie,” Hunter laughed.

“It was,” Codey started walking back to the front gate. “I wrote it.”

“You what?” Hunter stopped in his tracks.

“They told me what to write, and I wrote it,” he kept walking.

Hunter jogged to catch up. He grabbed Codey’s shoulder and spun him around, “Hey man, what the hell? You trying to freak me out with this crazy talk out here in a graveyard?” He had both of Codey’s shoulders now.

“Sorry,” Codey waited and Hunter released his grip. “I wasn’t trying to scare you. I was just telling you about the family.”

“Wait,” Hunter was almost shaking, “You asked me if I would stop by your family reunion with you on our way back from Spring Break. THIS is the family?” He was walking in a circle shaking his head, “Is this the part of the joke where you kill me and your freaky cannibal family eats me? Are you an axe murderer, or a zombie or something?” He was backing away now.

Codey held his hands up in front of him, “Hunter, come on man. Calm down – seriously. Walk back to the front with me and you’ll understand. I just help them, and they sort of help me.”

“Help? Like maybe you help them find their next victim? I ain’t going nowhere with you!” He ran towards the back of the cemetery yelling something Codey couldn’t make out. It sounded like Hunter was talking to someone. Codey waited at the gate, hoping it would give Hunter time to calm down.

A few minutes later, Hunter came from behind the headstones at top speed. He had a black stone in his hand screaming, “I saw him! It’s a trap, man! No one’s gonna eat me!” He swung, but Codey stepped to the side. Hunter was off balance and fell forward on the gate. There was a little cry, “Uh!” The next sound was like air coming out of a punctured tire.

“Hunter!” Codey rushed to help. Two rusted spikes poked through his back. “Hunter! Talk to me!” Codey reached to check for a pulse, but he knew already.

*****

Codey was almost done with the grave. He chose a spot at the back close to the trees. It would be peaceful there.

“We missed you,” a voice from the dark said. “Where have you been?”

“Sorry, I had a little trouble with my friend.”

A man shuffled into the moonlight. One arm was withered with only two fingers. He looked at the fresh grave. “Codey?”

“It was an accident,” he stood up, brushing at his pants. He carried the shovel as he walked through the gate. “He misunderstood. He said he saw you, and thought I was planning to kill him. I didn’t have time to explain our relationship.”

“I’m sorry.  I was coming to tell you that everyone is in the church.”

“I just wanted to show him how wonderful all of you are,” Codey hung his head. “Hunter didn’t have a close family, and I wanted him to know what it felt like. You know, the same way you showed me when you found me.”

The man nodded, “I remember. You said you drove way out into the woods to end it all.”

Codey was crying, shoulders shuddering, “I just wanted him to have a family.”

“He does now - always,” the man pointed to the church. “Everyone is waiting.”

Codey nodded and walked up the church steps. He dropped the shovel and opened the door. He was greeted with a cheer, “CODEY!” The church was full with laughing and singing. Everyone was happy to see him.

A girl, about ten years old, ran up and gave him a hug. “Codey, we thought you weren’t coming! I was worried you would miss the reunion.” She smiled up at him through a cleft palate.

“Lizzy! You look beautiful,” Codey smiled back.

In the corner he could see four men, each with a single hole in his forehead. He walked over. One of the men waved, “Codey! Hope you are well. Thank you from all of us for writing on our marker stones. It makes the waiting easier when we can open our eyes and look up at those words.”

“Happy to help. Good to see you all.” Codey surveyed the room. So many souls who suffered too much, but with this family they found peace. A group waved and called to him to come join their singing. He waved back and headed their way.

The sun would rise soon, and they would all return to the cemetery. It seemed so strange that they were only feet away from each other, but completely alone. He would have to wait seven years, until the next reunion, to see them again.

The church door creaked, then slowly opened. Lizzy smiled, “Hello Hunter. So glad to see you. Come in and meet your family.” 

February 02, 2021 20:07

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1 comment

Redd Herring
11:40 May 20, 2021

My story "The Book of Choices" is now on Beth Connor's Crossroads Cantina Podcast: https://crossroadscantina.captivate.fm/episode/the-book-of-choices

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