The Suicide Forest (The River Book 5) (16 page)

BOOK: The Suicide Forest (The River Book 5)
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“I’m tired,” Roy said. “I’m going to turn in. Go ahead with
the protection, Eliza.” Roy slipped inside the tent.

“Good night, Roy,” Eliza said as she rose from her chair and
walked behind the tent. Steven slipped into the River and saw her sprinkling
something on the ground. He decided to back off and leave her alone while she
worked. He went inside the tent. Roy was already in a sleeping bag, his eyes
closed.

Steven grabbed the thermos near the tent’s door and opened it
to take a mouthful of protection before slipping his shoes off and stepping
over to his sleeping bag. He crawled inside, wondering if he’d shaken it out
sufficiently before he rolled it up the last time.

There’s demons in the woods,
he thought.
You’ve got bigger things
to worry about than bugs in the sleeping bag.

Chapter Thirteen

 

 

 

Steven opened his eyes and saw the top of the tent. He
thought he’d heard someone or something walking outside.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since the last time Eliza
had woken them all for some additional protection. He strained his ears to
hear. There was nothing.

He turned to look at Roy. His sleeping bag looked flat in the
dim light.

He sat up. Roy was not there. He looked over at Eliza’s bag.
Hers was empty, too.

There was a noise outside – something cracked, like a twig
snap. He unzipped his bag and slipped out of it. It was cold – he put on his
coat and walked over to the tent entrance. He slipped his feet into his shoes.
He noticed that Roy and Eliza’s shoes were still there, next to his.

The flap to the tent was unzipped. He figured Eliza and Roy
must have woken early and decided to make some coffee. He didn’t have his watch
on, but it was still dark.

He lifted the flap and stepped out.

There was enough light from the moon that he could see the
clearing. Something was floating in the distance – he could see two shapes,
hovering several feet off the ground, about thirty feet away.

It was Roy and Eliza.

Steven sucked in air and was about to call out to them when
he noticed a black figure sitting in one of the camp chairs just outside the
tent. He jumped, then froze. The figure was no more than five feet from him. He
turned to look at it.

It turned its head and looked back at him. It smiled.

It looked like a man, just like the man he’d seen in his
bedroom. Steven slipped into the River and the figure transformed. It was Aka
Manah.

Shit
, Steven thought.
How do I get him to the mirrors?

Steven dropped out of the flow.

“Have a seat,” the man said, pointing to one of the other
camping chairs.

Steven looked out towards the clearing, looking for Roy and
Eliza. They appeared to be still sleeping. They were gently floating about five
feet off the ground. Roy’s head had fallen forward to his chest.

“They’re perfectly fine,” the man said, “at the moment. That
could change.”

“Let them go,” Steven said.

“That depends on you,” the man said. “Sit.”

Steven walked to the chair and sat down. A small fire erupted
on the ground between them, illuminating them both.

“I’m seated,” Steven said, wondering how he could get the man
over to the mirrors. “What now?”

“Don’t be worried about the mirrors,” the man said. “They’re
already smashed.”

Steven looked at the man. He had thin blondish brown hair and
a faint goatee. He was dressed in a jacket and slacks, with his legs crossed.
Steven could see some type of expensive Italian shoes on his feet.

“The mirrors are smashed?” Steven asked. “I don’t know what
you mean.”

“Yes, you do,” the man said, the edges of his mouth curling
up into a small smile. “Don’t pretend.”

“You killed Robbie,” Steven said.

“I did indeed,” the man said. “You were there when I did it,
outside.”

“Robbie was just a child,” Steven said.

“You’re all just children,” the man said, “to me.”

“Let my friends go,” Steven said. “They’re not part of this.”

“The basis of a good friendship is trust,” the man said. “You
need to trust me when I tell you that I’m not as stupid as you think.”

“I have no desire to be friends with you,” Steven said.

“Then at least be smart,” the man said, irritation creeping
into his voice. “It’ll help keep your options open.”

“I know you have enemies,” Steven said. “You should watch
your back and leave me and my friends out of this.”

“Vohuman?” the man said. “He’s one of many. Popping up to
steal Robbie gave him a whiff of me that he desperately wanted. He thinks he’s
chasing me. He’s half right.”

Steven’s mind was swirling. He could see Roy and Eliza,
floating in the distance. He didn’t know if what the man said about the mirrors
was true or not. He didn’t know what to do next.

“Do you see all these bodies?” the man asked, waving his hand
towards the forest. The blue haze returned, and hundreds of bodies appeared in
the trees, hanging, swinging slightly.

Steven looked out at them. “I see them,” he said.

“Do you know why they’re there?” the man asked.

“No idea,” Steven said, not wanting to entertain the man any
more than necessary.

“If we’re to become friends,” the man said, “you really must
step it up a notch. Use your brain. I can’t abide imbeciles.”

“I told you I’m not interested in being your friend,” Steven
said.

“You will be,” the man said, laughing a little as he said it.
“Do you know why they’re there?” he asked again. “The bodies?”

“I told you, no,” Steven said.

“Because they came here,” the man said. “That’s the main
reason. They might have lived, but they came here. Once they arrived, we took
over. If they had any doubts, we erased them. They finished themselves off.”

“You’re responsible for their deaths,” Steven said.

“Yes,” the man replied, “but not just me, alone. I’m just a
visitor here. There’s hundreds of my kind here, with varying degrees of
strength. When someone’s halfway to suicide, it’s easy to make that someone
think their family would be better off without them. Most of the creatures who
inhabit this forest can do that with little effort. What’s really challenging
is to make someone who’s in a normal state of mind think they need to tie a
rope around their neck and swing from a tree.”

“That’s you,” Steven said.

“That’s right,” the man said. “That’s me.”

“You tried to get me to stab myself,” Steven said, “back at
my home.”

“Just to scare you a little,” the man said. “I need you a
little scared.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Steven said.

“You should be,” the man said, smiling again. In the
distance, he heard Eliza scream. Steven looked out over the clearing. Eliza was
now suspended upright at the edge of the clearing. Steven could see something
forming over her head, the same kind of twisting movement he’d seen above him
in the dark in his bedroom. The twisting slowly stopped as it straightened out
into a rope and wrapped itself around Eliza’s neck, forming a noose.
He’s
going to hang them
, Steven thought.
They’ll just be two more suicides
out here.
All of Steven’s muscles tensed, and he felt as though a cold hand
ran up his spine. “Alright,” he said.

“I wasn’t interested in seeing you stab yourself, Steven,”
the man said. “I was hoping you’d hold the knife to your chest, give yourself a
good scare. That’s all. If I wanted you dead, your friends would already be
swinging from the trees. I’d make you think you needed to take some rope and do
yourself, too. It’d be easy.”

“We drank protection,” Steven said.

“It wore off,” the man said.

“What do you want?” Steven asked, angry.

“I want us to be friends,” the man said. “That’s the only way
out. If we’re not friends, I’ll suspend those two from the trees right now, and
we’ll part enemies.”

Steven swallowed hard and thought for a moment. He needed to
play this a different way.

“Usually a friendship is something mutual,” Steven said.
“You’re forcing me into it. Hardly a friendship.”

“I’m willing to forgive the initiation,” the man said, “in
light of the end result.”

“Alright,” Steven said. “Let’s say we’re friends. What then?
You take my hands?”

The man furrowed his brow and squinted one of his eyes. “You
think I want your hands?”

“Like Robbie?” Steven said. “I’m marked.”

“I don’t want your hands,” the man said, shaking his head
with repugnance. “You’ve turned. No demon wants you now.”

“But you wanted Robbie,” Steven said, a little confused.

“He was a morsel set out by Vohuman to tempt me,” the man
said. “Any marked gifted boy at puberty is a prize. Vohuman knows I have a
taste for them, that’s why he set it up. But after that age, you’re the
opposite of tasty. You’ve probably noticed that most demons won’t come near
you.”

“I have,” Steven said. “Is that why? I’m not ‘tasty’?”

“You’re worse than that,” the man said. “You’re lethal.”

“I am?”

“Very.”

“How?”

“You don’t know?” the man said. “Don’t expect me to tell you.
My point was that the markings are enough to drive ordinary demons away.”

“But not you,” Steven said.

“I’m not ordinary,” the man said. “I’m ancient.” He smiled.

“Why did you try to seduce me?” Steven asked. “In bed?”

“It was worth a shot,” the man said. “You’d be surprised how
often it works. When it does, it makes things a lot easier than resorting to
violence. So I try that first. Didn’t work with you.”

“But it worked with Evie,” Steven said, almost to himself.

“Who’s Evie?” the man asked.

“The woman Vohuman mated with,” Steven said. “Robbie’s
mother.”

“Oh, that whore,” the man said. “It’s nice to get a gifted
one, you get more interesting offspring that way.”

Steven was trying to take in all of the information the man
was giving him. It was hard. He wasn’t at all sure where any of this was going.
It was time to find out.

“So you want me to do something,” Steven said, “since we’re
friends.”

“And friends do things for each other, right?” the man asked.
Steven noticed that the rope had disappeared from Eliza’s neck, and her body
was drifting away from the edge of the clearing.

“What do you want me to do?” Steven asked.

“I want you to give it to me,” the man said.

“What?” Steven asked. “Give you what?”

“The glass,” the man said.

Steven slipped his hand into his coat pocket. There was the
planchette he’d shown to Eliza. He’d kept it with him, obsessed with examining
his marks. He removed it, held it up to the man.

“You mean this?” Steven said. “The planchette?”

The man’s eyes widened and for a moment he transformed into
the demon shape Steven had seen in the River. Then he transformed back.

“Yes,” the man said, “that’s it.”

“But it’s mine,” Steven said. “Why do you want it?”

“It’s not yours,” the man said. “It belongs to me. How did
you come across it?”

“I’d rather not say,” Steven said. “You’re right, it’s not
mine exactly. I found it.”

“I’d like you to give it to me,” the man said, extending his
hand.

“Is that what this has all been about?” Steven said, waving
the planchette.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed it has special properties,” the man
said. “It’s not a normal glass.”

“I know I feel sick when I look at my marks through it,”
Steven said.

“That makes it valuable,” the man said. “And it has other
properties.”

“What do you mean?” Steven asked.

“I’m guessing you’ve been looking with the engravings up,
facing you,” the man said.

“Yes,” Steven said, realizing the man was correct; he’d
always held the planchette with the engravings up. It seemed the right way to
hold it.

“Well, it’s very useful that way,” the man said. “And it
tells you far more than a normal glass. Try turning it over. Be careful, and
look again.”

Steven turned the planchette over so the engravings were
facing away from him. The underside of the planchette was bare and smooth. He
placed the glass over his hand and looked at his mark.

Instead of a slowly growing revulsion, he felt a slowly
growing euphoria. His marking began to pulse within his hand, and he felt a
wave of intense pleasure shoot up his arm and into his torso. He kicked back in
the camping chair, throwing his head back as the sensation raced into his
brain. He felt himself drop the planchette on the ground as the pleasure
quickly moved down his body. As it passed his groin he became instantly erect.
It moved down his legs and into his feet. He felt himself shaking from the
intensity of the experience, rocking in the camping chair. As it passed from
his feet into the ground, he felt as though he was being grounded to the earth,
attached in a permanent way that made him feel an intense connection with it.
The euphoria swelled in his mind until he felt he might burst. It was the
single most pleasurable experience he’d ever had. After a moment, he could lift
his legs again.

“Oh my god,” Steven said. “What was that?”

“The opposite of what you felt looking through it the other
way,” the man said. “And another of the reasons why I want it back.”

BOOK: The Suicide Forest (The River Book 5)
6.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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