Branches and Bones by Devi

Branches and Bones

by

Devi

Scott was most likely dead. Maverick ran through the darkening woods, branches scratching his face and arms and drawing blood. Breath tore in and out of his lungs like fire and his leg muscles were burning from overuse. He was an athletic man, but running for his life between trees on uneven ground was taking it’s toll. He had no idea how long he had been running. More importantly, he didn’t know how long he could keep it up.

It was behind him. He could hear it crashing through the trees and brush. It’s breath sounded ragged and like a constant low growl.

Maverick didn’t know what was chasing him. He had gone out to get more firewood before it got dark. They had made their camp near a small stream. Scott had been building the fire while Maverick went into the woods. It was only a moment later that Scott had screamed. Maverick had seen plenty of horror movies and he knew a scream of absolute terror when he heard one. His blood ran cold. He started to head back toward their camp when he heard something coming towards him. Crashing through the trees. That’s when he turned and ran.

His heart was hammering in his chest. At some point he had urinated on himself. Why had he agreed to go hunting and camping out in the middle of nowhere anyway? It had been Scott’s idea, Scott who was probably dead now.

Maverick wasn’t sure when the crashing behind him stopped. He just ran and ran. Finally he realized that the only sound he could hear was his own labored breathing. As unsure of it as he was, he slowed down and came to a stop, trying to look everywhere at once.

Trees surrounded him, everywhere he looked. It was getting very dark and he couldn’t see very far. The silence was unnerving. No birds sang, no small animals rustled in the brush. He could hear his own heartbeat.

Except there was another sound. Maverick strained to hear it, to identify it. It sounded like the sobbing of a child. He immediately moved in that direction, even though rational thought told him there couldn’t be a child out here. Maverick didn’t even know where he was anymore, and while that thought terrified him, the thought of a child out here was worse.

The child was hiding by a felled tree trunk. Maverick stopped and rubbed his eyes, in case they were playing tricks on him. A small boy, probably five or six years old. He was covered with muck, his blond hair sticking up in spikes.

“Hello?” Maverick said as he moved slowly closer.

The little boy looked up at him with huge brown eyes. He had stopped crying but tears were still coursing down his cheeks.

“Where is your family?”

The little boy grimaced. “Monster ate them.” The boy ran to Maverick and clung to him.

“Was it a bear? Did you see it?”

“It wasn’t no bear.”

Maverick picked the child up and hugged him. He could feel the child’s heartbeat pounding hard and too fast.

“Where did you come from? Were you camping near here?”

“I ran. I just ran away and hid.” The boy said, starting to cry again. “I want my mommy.”

“We have to get out of here. I don’t know where to go.” He immediately regretted saying that as the boy started shaking in his arms.

Maverick picked a direction and started walking. His body was on high alert, his ears straining to hear, his eyes trying to look everywhere. Small branches snapped under his feet. The child in his arms was heavy, but it didn’t matter to him. He had to get them out of the woods. They didn’t have the option of waiting for help that wasn’t coming anyway… because something else was out here with them. Something that had eaten the boy’s family. Not a bear…

What other than a bear would be out in the woods? What was big enough to be crashing through the trees and bushes? What?

Maverick shuddered. The boy had quieted down now and was clinging to him.

“Was it a big cat?” Maverick asked, a bit hopefully.

“No. It was...” The boy gripped him harder. “Something else.”

“What did it look like?”

“Branches and bones.” The boy said and would say no more.

Maverick felt a fear he had never experienced before. The darkness was getting to be a hindrance and soon he wouldn’t be able to see a foot in front of his face. He began to move faster, praying that he was heading in a direction that would take them out of here.

It wasn’t long before the darkness of night closed in on them. Maverick wanted to keep going, but his arm was aching from holding the child. His legs ached as well from running and walking fast… all in all he was just exhausted.

“We have to stop until light. We’ll be safe.” Maverick said, trying to sound sure of himself.

They found a big tree trunk that had fallen. Maverick sat with his back against it and let the boy curl up against him. It wasn’t long before the child was sound asleep. He whimpered in his sleep, and Maverick looked down at him, wondering what horror the child had seen. It hurt his heart and he felt the terror welling up again. Bones and branches… his mind could not comprehend it. Had the very forest come alive to try to kill them? Was he trapped in some nightmare? And if so, why could he not awaken, safe in his bed?

It was a long night. Maverick would begin to doze off, his exhaustion stronger than his fear… then he would hear a branch snap or an owl hoot. Instantly he was wide awake and looking everywhere, straining his ears to hear anything that sounded… well, dangerous. The child didn’t awaken during the night, which was a blessing.

As first light crept into the trees, Maverick woke the boy.

“We have to get moving.”

The boy looked around as if he didn’t know where he was or why. Then his eyes filled with tears.

“I know, I know… we’ll be okay though. We’re going to get out of here. Trust me.” Maverick said with a lot more confidence than he felt.

He stood up, his leg muscles and back protesting. He was sore and tired.

They began walking in the same direction they had been going. The boy walked on his own, so it was slower going than Maverick liked, but he knew he couldn’t carry the child the whole time.

It was mid-morning when he heard the noise. The boy cried out and looked up at Maverick, his face filled with terror. Maverick scooped him up into his arms and began to run. The sound had been far off, but not far enough. It was the snapping of branches, the felling of small trees, the sound of something breathing heavily.

Maverick ran, his sore legs forgotten. He had the brief thought that fear was stronger than pain. Mainly though all he could think about was branches and bones. Branches and bones that ate the child’s parents. And wanted to eat them, as well.

He ran. It was getting closer, it was faster than Maverick. It was toying with him, he thought. It could have caught them by now. Instead, it was pacing them… driving them on. Perhaps tenderizing it’s dinner.

Just as Maverick was realizing he could no longer run, that he had hit the wall and it was going to end here… really end, his life, the child’s life… he burst into a small clearing.

He recognized it immediately. It was his camp. Somehow he had run back to it, and to his surprise Scott was there, standing there, alive… and holding a rifle aimed at them.

“Put it down. Get away from it!” Scott yelled.

Maverick came to a halt. The noise in the woods was gone now, quiet.

“Get away from it, Maverick. Now!” Scott kept the gun up, aimed at them. Maverick could see that his finger was on the trigger.

The boy squirmed in his arms. He set him down and the boy walked a few steps away. The gun barrel followed him.

“What are you doing, Scott? Put down the gun...”

“STEP AWAY FROM IT!” Scott cried out.

Maverick looked over at the boy. And the boy was looking at him, a slight smile on his angelic face.

“What? What’s going on here?” Maverick asked, feeling as if the world had gone insane. Or maybe he had.

The boy began to laugh. As he laughed, the illusion of a child fell away from it. The Wendigo, who had chased Maverick through the woods, the Wendigo that had terrorized him… was there now instead, and it was hideous.

Branches and bones.

“What...” Maverick started.

The crack of the rifle firing snapped him out of the absolute horror and he ran to Scott. Scott fired again, and again… and the Wendigo laughed and laughed.