2015
"I don't remember much about that last night out there. I just…." Nico draws in a deep breath, brown eyes focused over Sidney's head. He's trying not get lost in his thoughts, to keep those bad things locked behind heavy doors and chains. "I only had one thought in my head through the whole thing."
"And what was that," Sidney asks, scribbling away in his notebook.
"No matter what happens to me, I have to keep those girls safe." Taylor lets out a soft sound, fingers curling protectively around the straps of her backpack. It's brand new with pink zebra stripes on the front and a three-eyed monster hanging from one of the zippers, bright blue and smiling.
"What about you, Taylor? Do you remember anything?"
"I remember everything," she answers. "My cousin saved us from one of the ghosts in the house and he saved us again in the woods. We'd be dead if it wasn't for him and Eve." She pats her bag for emphasis, then rubs it when she hears a faint hiss from inside. The snake seems to react to her emotions and Taylor misses the comforting presence around her left wrist.
"How'd it start?" Her daddy tunes back in, dropped back in the present where the hillbillies are far away and there aren't any ghosts waiting to slaughter them. No boogeymen hiding around the corner, just studio people and Sidney with his pearly white teeth and notebook full of details.
"Like almost every nightmare I've ever had, completely normal at first."
2014
Taylor has decided that living in a big house isn't worth being held hostage in an old farmhouse with the smell of rot hanging in the air like bad perfume. A woman old enough to be her nana is bent over with a slice of jerky that's definitely not from a deer, the smell making bile rise in her throat.
"Try to make me eat that and I'll let my snake take a chunk out of your hand," Taylor threatens, little hands fisted in her daddy's shirt. "We'll see how you like it." Mama Polk lets out a mirthless laugh, rattling in her chest like a cup full of bones.
"You keep making hollow threats, girly, and one day someone's gonna get ya." She pops the jerky in her mouth and promptly spits it back out, tossing the cookie sheet of meat to the dirt floor with a shout. "I spent hours workin' on that jerky and it ain't sweet! That man is bad meat." She points an accusatory finger at Elias, the scholar laid up on a table with an arm and leg missing.
We're all tainted meat. Taylor feels a giggle bubbling up in her chest, her clenched teeth the only thing holding it back. Bob was right, we're tainted.
"Bad meat," echoes one of the hillbillies, round and holding a hammer. "Bad meat!"
"That's right," Mama Polk agrees. "No reason to keep that one alive if he's rancid." Taylor snaps her head back around to bury it in her daddy's chest, hands covering her ears to muffle the sickening squish-thud-crack of Elias's skull being crushed under the hammer. "None of this would've happened if you city folk hadn't bought that house. The Butcher likes it empty and we try to keep it that way so no one will disturb our crop."
"Crop," Matt asks, hoarse. "What do you mean, crop?"
"The cannabis. We got fields all over these woods."
"Why are you telling us this? You can have the fucking house, just let us go."
"Why not let you in on some of the family secrets when we know you ain't gonna go run around tellin' folks," Ishmael asks, sitting in a kitchen chair six feet away with a shotgun balanced in his grip. "You all's just steak to us. Funny thing is, we might've let y'all walk on outta here if you hadn't gotten our babies taken away."
"We made a deal with the Butcher long time ago," Mama says. "She gets her sacrifice and we get our protection."
"So let's get in the goddamn truck." Ishmael jerks his shotgun at the front door and there's only a moment of hesitation before the others get up. Taylor clings to her daddy as they move back out into the chilled air, leaves crunching under their feet. "Everyone in the back." Nico grumbles as he's shoved forward, letting Taylor and Flora climb into the back of the pickup before helping Shelby in after them.
"This is illegal," Taylor points out. "I'm supposed to be in a booster seat, not bumping around out here."
"You'll be fine, kid. Stop your grumblin'." She scowls, the metal of the truck bed cold through her tights. They're fleece-lined and bright orange, but they don't hold up against the cold. The big man with the hammer sits in the back with them, taking the shotgun from Ishmael while the skinny man with a cleft lip climbs into the cab to drive them.
She doesn't talk much as the truck rumbles to life and starts off at a snail's pace down the dirt road, dips and rocks making them bounce harshly in their spots. Taylor just keeps her eyes on the black void of the barrel, where a blast of gunpowder could kill them all at any time. One wrong jolt, one accidental twitch of the finger, and bang! No more family.
One particularly vicious bounce has the barrel going up and the hillbilly yelling at his brother in the front seat. Matt and Nico take that as their cue to move, shoving the girls behind them as they lurch forward. Matt grabs the shotgun and Nico dives for the man's waist, working together to get the gun away from him.
Those threads around Taylor's heart pull taunt again, bruising pain spreading over her breastbone until there's a single blast that has the truck swerving dangerously and blood painting the back window of the cab. The hillbilly growls and throws the men off of him in time for Shelby to kick out, knocking him out of the bed.
"Come on," Matt hisses, grabbing Flora and hauling her out of the truck. "Come on, we have to go." Taylor hops over the side, feet dangling over the edge until Nico helps her down. "We gotta go! Come on!"
The moonlight doesn't help much in the woods, skeletal branches twining and twisting overhead to make a shroud. Too dark, too cold. But they keep going and eventually stop after an hour, dropping down to hide behind a felled tree. Around her neck, cold and clammy, Eve's tongue flicks out to taste the air.
Make him turn off his phone. Taylor's gaze switches between Matt and Nico for a moment, fingernails digging into the dirt as panic makes her tense. Make Matt turn off his stupid phone, Taylor. They're coming.
"Your phone," Taylor whispers, poking Mattie's arm. "Cousin says turn it off." Matt doesn't even falter, powering off the cell phone and stuffing it back into his pocket. Seconds later, one of the hillbillies stalks past them, shirt stained red and shotgun still in his hands. It's the one from the truck, the one Shelby had kicked with everything she had.
They wait another ten minutes after he passes before they begin to move, careful to keep their steps light and trying not to run into tree branches as they go. It's dark out and everything seems topsy-turvy, so it's no real surprise when they step out onto the path that leads right up to the front door.
"Oh God," Shelby breathes out, fingers tight where they dig into Flora's shoulder. "We just went in a huge circle."
"Shh, they haven't seen us yet," Matt cautions, holding out an arm to keep everyone from moving forward. "Scoot back. We'll stay in the woods until morning."
"It's too cold for us out here," Nico argues, shaking his head. "We'll have better luck walking alongside the road. If nothing else, it'll keep our blood circulating until we can find a car willing to pick us up."
"I guess that's better than nothing." They ease back into he woods, the kids herded between Matt and Shelby while Nico makes up the rear. They just have to make it to town and they'll be safe, just a few miles. But Taylor's bare feet are already sore and bleeding in places and the cold wind makes her eyes sting with tears.
"Wait, Shelby's car."
"What about it?"
"The taillights are on." Taylor glances back over her shoulder, the two spots of red out of place amongst the firelight. The silver paint's been tarnished by smoke damage, but the settlers must not have set it on fire like they did the other two. But why the heck are the taillights on?
The answer comes a moment later when the car reverses too fast for the mob to get out of the way, the Butcher flying over the top of the car and a few others going down underneath it. It comes to a stop with a spray of dirt, the driver's side window rolling down to reveal Lee with her teeth bared in a snarl.
"Let's get the fuck out of here," she yells, white-knuckling the steering wheel. Taylor doesn't need to be told twice, she practically dives inside once the door is opened, ending up in her daddy's lap with Shelby and Flora beside them and Mattie in the front seat. "What the hell were you thinking, hiding in those woods?"
"Edward led us there," Matt defends.
"Edward led us there," she repeats in falsetto. If Taylor wasn't so tired, she'd probably laugh. "Are you kidding me? We are not the dumb white people in horror movies, Matt! In fact, there's only one actual white person in this car! Even she should know better than to follow a ghost into the woods!"
"It was kind of a stressful time, Lee! We had a mob outside and some Grudge looking motherfucker hanging out like Spider-Man above the stairs! I was basically just hoping to get out of the house without being turned into a human Happy Meal!"
"We almost were," Taylor adds smartly. "Those crazy people would'a turned us into jerky if the Butcher didn't want us so badly." Matt sends her a betrayed look when Lee growls low in her throat, giving her brother a pointed glare. It really drives home the fact that Lee is the older sibling since it's the same glare Monica used to give Shelby after she let Taylor try wine for the first time.
"Mama, I'm hungry," Flora complains.
"Yeah, can we have pizza?"