Tom Deady - The Clearing

Other Books by Tom Deady

Coleridge

Haven

Weekend Getaway

Eternal Darkness

Backwater

The Clearing

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2021 Tom Deady

All rights reserved.

Cover Credit: Gabriel De Leon

http://gssdeleon.com

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without written permission from the publisher, except where permitted by law.

The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-64548-072-3

Published by Vesuvian Books

www.vesuvianbooks.com

For Shannon, Alyssa, and Spike the Crime Dog (aka Maggie)

S cout! Come on out of there, Scout! Hannah waited for the jingle of her dogs collar but was greeted with silence. She peered into the scrub pines that bordered the trail and into the deeper woods beyond. A breeze whispered through the trees, carrying the scents of pine and honeysuckle. Birds chattered in the distance and heat bugs buzzed overhead, but no jangle of dog tags. No Scout.

She swatted at the cloud of gnats that swarmed around her, pushed a few unruly strands of her long brown hair aside, and stepped off the trail into the brush.

Dont leave the path, Hannah, the forest goes practically to Canada.

Her fathers warning echoed in her head, but she needed to find Scout. The woods around her had grown quiet.

Maybe hes gone, Hannah, just like your mom.

The thought made her stomach clench, and she ran. She crashed through the bushes and tangles, oblivious to the scrapes and scratches, calling Scouts name.

A glint of sunlight on metal caught her eye and she darted to a break in the trees.

Scout was in a small clearing, rubbing his head and neck on a pile of leaves.

Scout! Hannah ran to him, shooting her hand to cover her mouth and nose as the smell assaulted her. The pile of leaves was actually the carcass of some long-dead animal, probably a squirrel. Its body had decomposed to an oily mess with matted gray fur, barely recognizable. Choking back rising bile, she grabbed Scouts collar, dry heaving at the slimy goo that seeped between her fingers.

She managed to drag him away, leading him back toward the trail as she willed her stomach to not eject its contents. Are there maggots on my hand?

Scout, stay, she commanded. She tore leaves from a nearby maple tree and wiped the miry mess from her hands. Not satisfied, she plunged the offending hand into the moist earth by the trunk of an old pine and squeezed the dirt in her fist. Better dirt than squirrel guts, she thought, bringing a fresh round of gags.

Scout, you know what this means, right? Bath time when we get home.

Scout cocked his head and Hannah smiled.

You wont be giving me that look when youre all wet and soapy. And youd better not shake all over the bathroom. She sighed and got to her feet, resigned to the chore ahead of her. Lets go, boy, she called, and turned toward home.

H annah walked slowly along the trail, keeping an eye on Scout. She anticipated a lecture from Dad when she got home I told you to keep him on the leash, Hannah and was in no hurry to get there. She crested a rocky rise and sat on a large boulder. It was a favorite vantage point of hers, with just enough breaks in the trees to offer a beautiful view of the woods. Autumn isnt that far off, she thought, catching hints of yellow on some of the leaves in the distance. She pulled out her cell phone and glared at the two words at the top of the screen:

NO SIGNAL.

Life in the sticks, she mumbled, and stood. She would have to wait until she got home to call Ashley and make plans for later. Lets go, Scout.

She kicked small stones as she walked, enjoying the day but wishing it didnt feel so fall-like already.

Something crashed through the bushes to her left.

Scout, get back here! Why didnt I put the leash on him? She pushed through the scrub pines, intent on catching Scout before he found something else gross to roll around on. She heard his tags off to her right and spotted a flash of tan fur. Then he was gone.

She slowed her pace and followed.

Scout, come on, boy!

The shadows deepened as she moved farther into the trees. Above her, the branches joined, conspiring to keep the sunlight from reaching her. She stopped to listen, unnerved by the quiet. The cicadas and early crickets had gone silent. Her own harsh breathing and the occasional sibilant whisper of the breeze through the trees were the only sounds she heard.

Scout? she called, softer, not wanting anyone else to hear.

A distant jingle caused her to let out the breath she didnt know she was holding. She moved toward the sound, careful not to make a noise, cocking her head for another warning that Scout was near. She stopped again, listening. A different sound reached her, not Scouts collar but a rustling. No, that wasnt rightit was more frenzied somehow. Then the dog tags were all she heard, growing louder.

Good boy, Scout, she called, a relieved smile on her face.

Scout darted out of the trees with something hanging from his mouth. Hannah shuddered, thinking it was some poor animal. When he bounded closer, she laughed. It was just an old, pink Converse high-top. Good boy, Scout, you didnt kill anything today.

Scout dropped his prize at her feet and sat on his haunches, looking up at her.

Sorry, boy, I didnt bring treats. She bent to pick up the tattered sneaker and leaped backward with a squeal. She swallowed hard, her throat gone dry, and leaned in closer to the sneaker. Oh, God...

Scouts ears dropped, and he whimpered. Hannah bit her lip and crouched next to the shoe. Using a nearby stick, she pushed away legions of squirming maggots. The color washed out of the day. The normal sounds of the forest became oddly threatening. Then the smell hit her, and she gagged, falling backward onto her butt. She rolled to the side and threw up, spewing her breakfast onto the mossy ground. Scout barked frantically. Hannah stared at the pool of puke, watching it run down the slope. A string of saliva connected it to her mouth, and she reached up to wipe it away. The slimy texture reminded her of the maggots, and she dry-heaved until her head ached. Closing her eyes didnt help; all she saw were wriggling white things. Scrambling to her hands and knees, careful to avoid her recycled breakfast, she tried to stand. The ground tilted and she closed her eyes again, ignoring the sickly pallid shapes that moved there. Would she ever not see them? Using a low-hanging branch for balance, she tested her legs to make sure theyd hold her before letting go.