Read Online Year's End: 14 Tales of Holiday Horror by J. Alan Hartman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J. Alan Hartman
Tags: Horror
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anger that bit harder than rough wool.
“You fucking moron !” a raspy voice yelled. Ray, startled, looked for the source. He saw a thin figure sitting on snow-littered grass a few feet away. God, is he talking to me? I didn’t mean to…
“Hey, that’s not necessary!” shouted Big Ed of Ed’s Everything, his figure hard to miss, bundled on a nearby blanket. “I’m having some weird déjà-vu of my wife leaving. And you’re calling me stupid?”
“Plus, this is supposed to be ‘kid-friendly,’” Ray added, shaky but glad to be relieved of blame.
The cigarette-scarred voice continued, louder and louder. “You are a louse on a hound . No, you’re a spot the sun forgot to burn…not good enough for a chicken to pick from its claws!”
“Hey, man!” Ed said. “No one deserves that kind of abuse! Is it even me you’re mad at? What did I ever do to you?”
The man curled up, forehead to knees, then drove a punch to his own right temple. A cry of pain mangled out through gritted teeth. Ray stood stunned in the booth’s doorway. Ed made no move either. The man swung again, harder; Ray panicked, almost expecting to see eyes pop from their sockets. Against half his will Ray ran to him, sneakers squeaking on snow. His mind blank, he pulled the man’s arms down and pinned them at the knee.
Once again Ray could attend to the world. “Joshua, Joshua!” wailed a woman many paces away. I know that voice; I know that voice. Oh, right. Celia, redhead, pretty, walks her beagles down the street. She mentioned once she’d lost a son, didn’t seem too broken by it . “Breathe, Honey, breathe!” she begged the empty air. “You’re not going to die in front of me!”
“It’s just a dream!” Ray screamed, stuck in place but hoping his voice could reach her, “I think.” How else do you explain this? He felt his father’s presence on him, unforgiving, but managed to shake it off.
He kept his grip on the resistant arms of the man beneath him. Yells and cries surrounded them, and it felt like forever until the man lifted his head. “Keith?” Ray recognized the college student home on break. He couldn’t hide his surprise. “What happened?”
“You don’t know,” Keith shook his head. “Put those pills in front of me, and I’m powerless. I’ve destroyed my life. Let me go.” His eyes, the right bloodshot, begged. “Or at least,” he said, “Let me rest in the woods. It’s quiet there. I don’t know why. People yell going in, and then they’re silent.”
Ray scanned the field and realized Keith was right. Half the adults had run away, all towards the dark trees. The remaining ones cried, but with less passion, or hugged their children like ships tied to anchors.
“Please?” asked Keith. “I need some relief.” He tried to force his arms upward against Ray’s grip.
Ray was stronger and had the advantage of standing. This kid is not going to hit himself again if I can help it. It sounds crazy, but could the woods give him some peace?
“Okay,” Ray said, “But you promise, no stupid shit like before?” He tried to sound tougher than he felt. “You’re a good kid.” He failed.
Keith nodded. “I’ll hold on, if the woods will make a change. Or will let me. I don’t know. I’ve fucked up.”
“All right.” Ray released Keith’s arms. “I’ll walk there with you.” Makes a good excuse. What are those people doing in the woods anyway?
The two of them found a makeshift trail, one of the many where boots and shoes had scattered the snow. Ray glanced at the field as they made their way across. Countless children huddled on blankets near the dim light of a dying lamppost. A few lone adult figures too, rocking back and forth as though to calm themselves, yelping out occasionally. Why have they been spared? Maybe their lives don’t hold enough trauma to cause them to run.
Keith and Ray reached the edge where grass gave way to thick pines. The wind picked up a distinct
“You fucking moron !” a raspy voice yelled. Ray, startled, looked for the source. He saw a thin figure sitting on snow-littered grass a few feet away. God, is he talking to me? I didn’t mean to…
“Hey, that’s not necessary!” shouted Big Ed of Ed’s Everything, his figure hard to miss, bundled on a nearby blanket. “I’m having some weird déjà-vu of my wife leaving. And you’re calling me stupid?”
“Plus, this is supposed to be ‘kid-friendly,’” Ray added, shaky but glad to be relieved of blame.
The cigarette-scarred voice continued, louder and louder. “You are a louse on a hound . No, you’re a spot the sun forgot to burn…not good enough for a chicken to pick from its claws!”
“Hey, man!” Ed said. “No one deserves that kind of abuse! Is it even me you’re mad at? What did I ever do to you?”
The man curled up, forehead to knees, then drove a punch to his own right temple. A cry of pain mangled out through gritted teeth. Ray stood stunned in the booth’s doorway. Ed made no move either. The man swung again, harder; Ray panicked, almost expecting to see eyes pop from their sockets. Against half his will Ray ran to him, sneakers squeaking on snow. His mind blank, he pulled the man’s arms down and pinned them at the knee.
Once again Ray could attend to the world. “Joshua, Joshua!” wailed a woman many paces away. I know that voice; I know that voice. Oh, right. Celia, redhead, pretty, walks her beagles down the street. She mentioned once she’d lost a son, didn’t seem too broken by it . “Breathe, Honey, breathe!” she begged the empty air. “You’re not going to die in front of me!”
“It’s just a dream!” Ray screamed, stuck in place but hoping his voice could reach her, “I think.” How else do you explain this? He felt his father’s presence on him, unforgiving, but managed to shake it off.
He kept his grip on the resistant arms of the man beneath him. Yells and cries surrounded them, and it felt like forever until the man lifted his head. “Keith?” Ray recognized the college student home on break. He couldn’t hide his surprise. “What happened?”
“You don’t know,” Keith shook his head. “Put those pills in front of me, and I’m powerless. I’ve destroyed my life. Let me go.” His eyes, the right bloodshot, begged. “Or at least,” he said, “Let me rest in the woods. It’s quiet there. I don’t know why. People yell going in, and then they’re silent.”
Ray scanned the field and realized Keith was right. Half the adults had run away, all towards the dark trees. The remaining ones cried, but with less passion, or hugged their children like ships tied to anchors.
“Please?” asked Keith. “I need some relief.” He tried to force his arms upward against Ray’s grip.
Ray was stronger and had the advantage of standing. This kid is not going to hit himself again if I can help it. It sounds crazy, but could the woods give him some peace?
“Okay,” Ray said, “But you promise, no stupid shit like before?” He tried to sound tougher than he felt. “You’re a good kid.” He failed.
Keith nodded. “I’ll hold on, if the woods will make a change. Or will let me. I don’t know. I’ve fucked up.”
“All right.” Ray released Keith’s arms. “I’ll walk there with you.” Makes a good excuse. What are those people doing in the woods anyway?
The two of them found a makeshift trail, one of the many where boots and shoes had scattered the snow. Ray glanced at the field as they made their way across. Countless children huddled on blankets near the dim light of a dying lamppost. A few lone adult figures too, rocking back and forth as though to calm themselves, yelping out occasionally. Why have they been spared? Maybe their lives don’t hold enough trauma to cause them to run.
Keith and Ray reached the edge where grass gave way to thick pines. The wind picked up a distinct
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