He climbs on top of her, one head giggling, the other drooling.
Others watch.
Other monsters.
A man whose fingers are fused together, like flippers. The bushy unibrow dividing his oversized forehead makes him look Neanderthal. He has a tiny nose and tiny ears, out of proportion with his large face. He claps his flippers, applauding the show.
Another man with a pointed head, thin on the top and bulbous on the bottom, like an eggplant. He hops from foot to foot, anxiously awaiting his turn.
One man has a split down the middle of his face, as if someone hit him in the nose and mouth with an ax. He snorts through the combined nose/mouth opening, spit and snot spraying.
Another man, naked and disgustingly obese, is propped up in an old, rusty wheelchair. Instead of knees, he has tiny, baby feet attached to his thighs. His right arm is also no larger than a baby’s. It’s waving at her as he smiles.
There are others. Many others. Many that are even worse.
She doesn’t scream. They like it when she screams.
Instead, clenches her fists, her fingernails digging into her palms, her teeth biting her own tongue, willing herself to wake up.
Her eyes open wide.
The creatures are still there.
This isn’t a dream.
She’s been awake all along.
# # #
Letti Pillsbury glanced in the rearview mirror at her mother and daughter in the backseat, huddled over the videogame. It made her feel both happy and sad, and more than a little dishonest. But she and Florence had agreed not to tell Kelly until after the Iron Woman event.
One thing at a time.
She shifted her eyes back to the road, and then to the map. It wasn’t a real map. In fact, it looked like a photocopy of a hand drawing, and a poorly done one at that. Letti had called the inn yesterday and spoken to the female proprietor to get better directions.
“Ten point six miles southwest down 219 once you pass 55. The road isn’t marked, so use your odometer. It’s on the right. We’re so looking forward to having y’all.”
The odometer was creeping up on ten point five, but there was nothing out here but hills and forest, and it was getting increasingly more difficult to see as the sun went down. Letti questioned, not for the first time, her decision to stay this far away from the competition, instead of at the event hotel. But money was tight and would only get tighter, and when the Rushmore Inn brochure arrived in the mail, stating they’d won free rooms, she couldn’t pass it up. Letti didn’t even remember entering the contest, but apparently she’d checked some box while filling out the extensive paperwork for the competition. The inn was really out of the way, but even if it had the worst amenities in the history of bed and breakfasts, it was still a lifesaver.
Letti slowed down, squinting into the trees, looking for the road. At first, the endless forest and jutting mountains had taken her breath away with their beauty. But after hours of the spectacular view, she began to feel intimidated. Letti hoped the race course was clearly marked, because if one of them got lost in this wilderness, they’d be lost forever.
When the odometer hit the magic number, Letti rolled onto the narrow shoulder and coasted to a stop.
“Are we here?” Kelly said, poking her head up through the space in the front seats and giving JD a pat.
Letti checked the numbers again. Then she rechecked the map.
“According to this, yes. But there’s nothing here.”
“There.” Kelly pointed. “See the tire tracks?”
Letti followed her daughter’s finger, and saw two barely visible tracks, almost completely hidden by weeds, leading into the forest between a small gap in the trees.
“That’s not a road,” Florence said. “That’s not even a trail.”
“It matches up to the map. And look.”
Letti pointed to a tiny sign, hanging from a tree. It read RUSHMORE INN.
“Why would they paint the sign green?” Florence asked. “It blends into the trees. And it’s so small.”
Letti turned the wheel and pressed the gas.
“Letti, you can’t be serious. What if we get stuck?”
“We’re driving an Audi. It’s all-wheel drive.”
Florence clucked her tongue—something she did when she was displeased. “Let’s go back into town. I’m sure there are other rooms available. I’ll pay for it.”
Letti bristled at her mother’s words, and any doubts she had about this road vanished, replaced by anger. Pay for it? Now Letti was determined to see this through, even if they had to drive over a log jam to do it.
The Audi’s tires dug in and performed as advertised, traversing the bumps, divots, and rocks without getting stuck. But the suspension left something to be desired, the shocks bouncing them around like a carnival ride. Twenty yards into the woods the sun disappeared, forcing Letti to flick on her brights. Though overgrown, the path was relatively straight, and no trees or large obstacles got in their way.
Boy, it’s dark.
In southern Illinois, on the Great Plains, even a moonless night was starlit. But this was like swimming in ink. Letti had the window cracked open, and she could practically feel the darkness seeping in.
Then the car jolted, the front end tilting downward. Letti whacked her head against the steering wheel, causing the horn to honk, and JD bounced against the dashboard, uttering a surprised yelp.
Letti pushed herself back into her seat, but the car still canted on an angle, like they were driving down a steep hill.
“Mom?”
“We went into a hole, or a ditch, or something. Are you both okay?”
JD hopped onto Letti’s seat, his big paws between her legs. He growled at the driver’s side window.
“JD! Down!”
The growl became a sharp bark, and the dog’s entire body tensed. Letti stared where JD was looking, out into the woods. She saw only blackness.
“JD? What’s wrong, boy?”
Kelly patted his head, her voice full of concern. “There’s something out there, Mom. He senses it.”
Letti put a hand on his collar. JD was baring his teeth, and he stood rigid as a statue, his hackles up. The last time she’d seen the dog act this way was a few months ago, when someone tried to break into their house at three am. It turned out to be their drunken neighbor, mistaking their house for his. JD had gone Cujo at the intrusion, leaping at the door with such force he’d knocked out the security window.
She certainly didn’t want a repeat of that right now.
Letti pressed the brake and shifted the Audi into reverse, giving it a little gas.
The wheels whirred, but they remained stuck.
“I can’t see anything out there,” Florence said, her nose pressed to the glass. “It’s like staring into a grave at midnight.”
Letti gave it a little more gas, shouldering JD aside and watching the RPM gage jump.
The car still didn’t move. She wondered if the Audi was on its undercarriage, the wheels off the ground. She would have to go check, see if she could—
JD barked again, clipped and loud, surprising the shit out of her.
“JD! Down!”
Letti gave the dog a rough shove, pushing him off her lap and back into his seat. Then she reached for the door handle.
”Letti!” Florence yelled in her ear. “Don’t get out of the car!”