At the Edge of the Forest Read online

  Copyright 2015 Amy Cross

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, entities and places are either products of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, businesses, entities or events is entirely coincidental.

  Kindle edition

  Dark Season Books

  First published: December 2015

  “What do children become, if they don't become adults?”

  Two years ago, Rita Bone's sister vanished after a series of bizarre, violent incidents near their home. Now Rita is old enough to search for Shannon herself, and she starts by taking a job at the same all-night store. Soon, however, she starts to hear strange stories about a powerful force that lives in the nearby forest, and she realizes that finding her sister might mean going past the line of trees and entering the darkness.

  Something is alive in the forest. Something hungry.

  As Rita's search continues, the forest reaches out to claim fresh victims. A local serial killer suffers a freak accident that puts him in a coma, and when he wakes up he finds himself experiencing a series of horrific visions. Meanwhile, echoes of the past start to leak into the present, leading Rita to make a terrifying journey. What lurks in the heart of the forest? What did it do to Rita's sister? And why do those who enter the forest never return?

  At the Edge of the Forest is a horror fantasy novel about a girl who sets out to find her sister, and about the darkness left behind by a centuries-old effort to save a dying child.

  At the Edge of the Forest

  Prologue

  “They're all looking for you,” I tell her, holding the newspaper front-page up for her to see. “Scouring the area around your parents' home, trying to pick up a trail, work out who took you and where. Even your scummy boyfriend is worried.”

  Down at the bottom of the pit, she's curled in a ball, naked and sobbing. She hasn't even looked at me once since I opened the hatch. Instead, the dumb bitch seems to have retreated into an almost animal-like state of perpetual misery. That's good, that's how I like it. Once she's less woman and more beast, I can get started on the second phase. Hell, I think Glenda Rabindale might be the best yet.

  “Neighbors said she was a good, hard-working girl,” I read from the paper. “There are conflicting reports that she might have been in trouble with some local figures.” I can't help but laugh, before scanning the rest of the story for more inaccuracies. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter, “people are dumb. They're so desperate to help, to be part of the drama, they search their minds for details and then heave up a mess of garbage that probably sets the cops off on all the wrong trails.” I pause again, before crumpling the paper into a ball and then tossing it down to her. “Oh Glenda,” I continue, “you and I are going to have such fun tomorrow when I come back and hand you over to your new friend. She's been waiting for you, ever since she dragged you into the forest.”

  With that, I swing the hatch shut and start sliding the many bolts across. I can still hear her sobbing down there, even though half her face was wiped away in the accident.

  ***

  The walk home is always so peaceful. Between the wretchedness of the girls I drag to the pit in that little shack, and the mundane family life to which I must return every night, I have come to truly love the forty-five minutes of just walking through the quiet, lonely forest.

  Even tonight, when rain has been falling and the forest floor is like mulch.

  Alone with my thoughts, I'm barely able to see anything up ahead. Still, I can't use a flashlight to guide my way. For one thing, I don't want to draw attention to the fact that anyone is out here in this deserted stretch of back-country, but for another I prefer finding my route in a more honest manner, spotting the trees looming up ahead in the darkness and picking my way around them. Hell, I've made this journey so many times, I could probably manage it while wearing a blindfold. The only sound is my own footsteps and my own breath, and my own thoughts as they settle after another session at the shack.

  By the time I make my way up the muddy bank and reach the side of the desolate road, my mind is clear of distractions and I feel more ready to return to civilization. I stop for a moment to light a cigarette, taking a few deep, steady breaths, before starting to wander along the side of the road as it curves through the forest, heading toward the little town a couple of miles to the north. My feet are wet from the mud, but even that can't bring my mood down, not tonight. After all, my favorite part of my work is the moment when I get to deliver a new girl to her mistress, and that moment is coming tomorrow. Jesus Christ, I don't know how I'll sleep tonight, not with this knot of anticipation tightening in my gut, and God alone knows how I'll get through my shitty job all day.

  All those people who are going to come to the office tomorrow and complain while I process their insurance forms... If only they knew who they were really dealing with.

  Hearing the sound of a car in the distance, somewhere far back over my shoulder, I can't help but feel a little surprised. It's so rare for anyone to come by this way so late, so close to midnight, but I can't be bothered to duck back down into the forest and hide. Besides, five girls might have gone missing from this county over the past few years but it's not as if anyone's looking for them down in this neck of the woods. I've been very careful to send the police scurrying off in the other direction, and they're far too dumb to realize they've been tricked.

  Behind me, the car is getting closer. After a moment, I'm able to see the road ahead brightening a little as the headlights come into view, casting my shadow across the tarmac.

  Stopping, I suddenly realize that something's wrong.

  I turn just in time to see a truck veering first one way, then the other, swinging wildly as it speeds around the corner far too fast. As the headlights catch my eyes, I'm momentarily dazed, and all I can do is raise a hand to block the light as it bears down on me. I know I should move, that I should jump out of the way, but for a fraction of a second my legs feel frozen, and then it's too late.

  The truck veers to my left but catches my side, knocking me back from the road and sending me flying back into the forest until I slam into a tree. I feel my head shatter, and then everything goes dark as I slump down into the pitch-black mud. The last thing I remember is rolling down the embankment and back onto the road, before everything goes black.

  Part One

  RITA

  I

  Two years later

  “Damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn!”

  Taking a deep breath, I try to stop being such a goddamn sissy. I'm in the parking lot next to the forest, staring up at the BarraBuy logo on the side of the building, and I know I shouldn't be nervous but...

  Damn it, what's wrong with me? I'm old enough to know better, I'm not a kid, but this social anxiety thing is bubbling through my chest at a thousand miles an hour. It's like that feeling you get when you lean back too far in your chair and for a fraction of a second you think you're going to fall; that's the feeling that's frozen in my chest, and the only way to get rid of it is to go back home and crawl into bed and hide.

  But I can't do that.

  Figuring that I should just haul my ass inside and get on with things, I reach into my pocket and check my phone. Great, eighty-seven seconds left and then I'll be late. I take one more deep breath, then I remind myself how much I need this, and then I make my way toward the entrance. Each step feels so heavy, and I consider turning and running, but finally I get there. I'll be fine once I get started, I know I will. I have to be. Please let me be fine.

  The doors slide open, and I see the vast brightness inside.

  *** />
  “You ever worked retail before?”

  “Uh, no. To be honest, this is my first job.”

  “It is, huh? Yeah. Yeah, I can see that in your eyes.”

  “You can?”

  “A word of advice. Don't let the customers realize you're nervous. If they sense fear in any form, they'll turn on you.”

  “Turn on me?”

  He laughs. He has bad breath.

  “How... How can they turn on me?”

  “The customers we get here on the night shift? Oh, they'll find a way. They always find a way. They sense weakness in all its forms, and they exploit it wherever they can.”

  Stopping at the line of registers, Harvey turns to me. We're right beneath one of the AC vents, which is unfortunate since the airflow is gently ruffling his comb-over and wafting his breath toward me.

  “Why are you squinting?” he asks.

  “I'm not.”

  “You are.”

  I pause, before realizing that he might be right. “Sorry,” I mutter, forcing myself to open my eyes properly, “it's just... It's kinda bright in here.”

  “It is?”

  “You don't think so?”

  He glances around for a moment, looking past the register toward the vast, hanger-like shop floor.

  “Yeah,” he says finally, as if he's considering the possibility for the first time, “you might be right. I guess I've just been here so long, I've gotten used to it.” He turns back to me again. “What did you say your name was again?”

  “Rita,” I reply. “Rita Bone.”

  “Bone?”

  “I know it's dumb. You don't have to do any jokes about it.”

  He stares at me for a moment. “Nah. It's not dumb, it's just... It's kinda weird. Bone.”

  “So what's the plan for my first shift?” I ask, trying to focus on the task at hand. I've always been bad at small-talk. “Am I gonna be stacking shelves, or working on the registers, or dealing with customers or...” My throat feels incredibly dry, and when I glance out toward the shop floor again I can't help but realize that despite the vast size of this place, there don't seem to be any customers at all. “Um... So, Sir, what am I supposed to do tonight?”

  “Sir?” He laughs, before making his way behind the nearest register. “Don't go calling me nothing fancy,” he continues, tapping at one of the screens before swiping in with an access card attached to a string around his waist. “That's a good way to talk to the customers, though. They like it when you show a little respect. Some of 'em, they like to be treated like royalty while they're buying cut-price beef jerky.”

  “I'm here to do the best job I can,” I reply, stepping closer, “and to uphold the values of the corporation while also improving my skill-set, learning as much as possible, and making a place for myself in the modern workforce of -” I pause, as suddenly the rest of the pre-prepared speech slips from my mind. “Shit,” I hiss, “what was the last part?”

  After a moment, I realize that Harvey is frowning at me.

  “You're weird,” he says finally. “Like, even for this town, you're weird.”

  I shake my head. “I'm not. I promise.”

  He stares at me for a moment longer, before tapping at the screen again. “We just need to get your credentials set up in the system, and then I figure it's time to throw you in at the dark end.”

  “You mean the deep end?”

  “Whatever.” More tapping. “Rita Bone,” he mutters, followed by a faint smile. “So tell me, Rita Bone. Little test for you here. How many customers do you think are in this store right now?”

  I open my mouth to say none, before realizing this is probably a trick. Glancing back toward the shop floor, I wait for some hint of life out there, but all I see are the ends of thirty-or-so aisles that I assume stretch way, way back to the far wall. I don't hear anything and I don't see anything, but I guess there must be a few folk out there somewhere, maybe in the distant corner of the floorspace. Turning back to Harvey, I'm about to make a random guess when I spot a flicker of movement above him, and I look up to see a bank of black-and-white security monitors showing various flickering views from around the store.

  I wait, but there's still no sign of anyone.

  The monitors are just showing images of empty aisles.

  “Well?” Harvey asks, still tapping at the screen. “How many?”

  “Um...” I wait, convinced that someone will appear on one of the monitors eventually, but there's nothing. After a moment, I think I spot a shadow in the top-left image, but the smudge just seems to flit past without a body attached, so I guess it's nothing. “I...”

  “Seven,” he says.

  I turn to him. “Seriously? Where?”

  “Out there.”

  I turn and look toward the aisles. “Where?”

  “You ever been to a big store like this, Rita Bone?”

  “Of course.”

  “But have you ever been at night?”

  I turn back to him. “Well... Not this late.”

  “The rules are different after dark,” he explains. “You don't get your regular, nine-to-five people in here, not between the hours of midnight and about 5am. You get the other people, the ones who have their reasons for coming late. Maybe they don't like crowds, or maybe they don't like being seen, or maybe they can't come out during the day.”

  “Can't?”

  He shrugs.

  Glancing back toward the aisles, I wait again for some hint of life.

  Nothing.

  “Shouldn't they...” I pause. “Shouldn't they be making a noise or something?”

  “Why? They know what they want.”

  “What do they want?”

  “That's up to them, but we carry almost every conceivable product at BarraBuy, so you can bet they'll find it eventually. Here, change into this.”

  Turning, I see that he's placed a bright orange t-shirt on the counter, along with black pants.

  “Your uniform,” he continues. “There's a changing space in the staff room, don't worry about anyone walking in on you, there's only the two of us working tonight. So get changed, and then get out there.”

  “Out there?” I reply.

  “Out there,” he says with a smile, pointing toward the aisles. “Someone's gotta be available in case the customers want help, and it sure as hell isn't gonna be me.” He stares at me for a moment. “Oh, and try to stop looking so goddamn terrified, Rita Bone. If they sense fear, the customers'll be all over you like jackals.”

  Taking a deep breath, I try to offer a confident smile. “Is that better?” I ask.

  He shakes his head.

  “How about this?” I widen my smile, hoping to look friendly.

  He sighs.

  “What about this?” Taking another deep breath, I try to loosen myself a little and look more relaxed.

  “Just go get changed,” he replies, clearly not impressed.

  Turning, I make my way to the door in the corner.

  “Jesus Christ,” I hear Harvey muttering behind me.

  I don't stop, though. I head through the door and then I pause for a moment before peering back through and seeing that he's engrossed in something on his computer terminal. Tossing my orange t-shirt aside, I glance around the staff room, hoping to spot a filing cabinet or some other set of records. After all, I'm not only starting this new job because I need the money. I have another reason too.

  “Okay Shannon,” I whisper, feeling a hint of anticipation in my chest. “Where are you?”

  II

  Fidgeting with the arms of my new bright orange BarraBuy t-shirt, I still can't quite get it to fit properly. Maybe it's the itchy fabric, or maybe it's the fact that it seems to have been cut for a guy's figure, but it just won't settle right and the label on the inside collar feels like a goddamn razor against the nape of my neck.

  Finally giving up, I stop at the first junction and look along the next aisle. Products line the shelves but there's still absolutely no sign o
f another living soul out here. It's only been a couple of minutes since I left the staff room and received my final instructions from Harvey, but I swear to God I feel like I'm an astronaut making a walk from a shuttle, venturing out into an airless, lifeless void. I swear the air feels thinner the further I get from the register, but I tell myself to just keep walking and stop being so dramatic.

  “Hello?” I want to call out. “Anyone alive out here?”

  But I don't.

  “Don't be smart,” Mom told me before I came tonight. “Try to fit in.”

  “I'm trying,” I mutter to her in my head. “God knows, I'm -”

  Suddenly I hear a bump in the next aisle. Filled with a brief surge of relief at the thought that I'm not alone, I hurry around the corner, only to find yet another empty space stretching in both directions, lined on either side by boxes of laundry detergent. I swear I heard someone, but now there's only silence. Still, after a moment, I spot someone on the floor, and when I go over to investigate I find that it's a sealed pack of Easter-themed napkins. Picking it up, I tell myself it probably just fell off the shelf and that's what I heard, but then I realize I'm still in the laundry department, which I guess means someone must have been past this way with the napkins and dropped them. In the distance, one of the main lights is out of action, leaving the far corner looking a little gloomier than the rest of the store.

  God, this is fascinating.

  Checking my phone again, I see that I've been in the building for a grand total of twenty minutes. Feels more like twenty hours. I was hoping to have gone through the personnel records by now, maybe to have a lead on Shannon's whereabouts, but Harvey interrupted me before I could take a look and now I have to wait until my first break, and then I have to hope he isn't still loitering in the staff room. The last thing I need to do is arouse suspicion or -