As we all know, November is over and I’ve let December come and go without posting one little tidbit of goings on for all of you to enjoy. I apologize. That’s what happens during the holidays when you work retail. (Look for a future post entitled: A Rant.)
So I’m going to do something I’ve never done before, and never do, and might never do again. Welcome, guinea pigs. I’m going to share with you a work in progress. I rambled on about my novel and how is was a manic struggle of frustration and elated disdain, and I assume it would be more than okay to share with you some of the product I came up with. Keep in mind that it’s an excerpt from somewhere near the middle of the novel, so context is a little fuzzy; also, this is a one-shot scene – meaning I have not edited this scene at all. It could be a little rough. Still, I’d like to hear your thoughts. I will say, though, that I did read it over and I hated it, so feel free do agree with me, I won’t be offended.
Jilly crept, as silently as possible, down the long dark corridor between the canning room the trap door just inside the woods by Nora’s House. The twins and Eli had promised to meet her there at 10 o’clock, it was currently 9:53. She softly lifted the door and looked both ways, keeping an ear out for sounds of movement in the dark woods, then stepped softly into the woods, letting the trap door ease silently shut behind her.
The moon shone an ominous white-gray in broken rays through the limbs above her. Twigs resting on the forest floor creaked beneath her feet like the floorboards in a forgotten house hidden back in the dark corners of the countryside, away from the constant hum of interstates and community. Each grunted first, in a struggle to find its own limits, groaned, then snapped. They echoed through the trees like tiny gun blasts from a war waging itslef miles away.
She shuffled through dead leaves and sticks for several minutes, keeping each step as soft as possible. She kept her eyes fixed above the tree lines, Eli having told her previously that the Indians had done this in order to focus more clearly when traveling at night. This would have been a good trick, she thought, if she were on an open road or in a field. In the woods, though, it’s hard to notice the logs you have to step over if your eyes are fixed on some distant location in the air.
She passed the fallen tree Eli had tied his belt on as a landmark after fifteen minutes of shuffling through debris, then took a right and started looking for the buried lane the led to Nora’s. This being the first time she had been to Nora’s after dark, she had to stop for a second and look for where exactly the lane had hidden itself.
She saw a break in the trees that appeared to be ten feet wide or so, and started for it. Shuffling along through the debris, she tripped over another fallen tree. Blind in the darkness, she fumbled around her feet for the log.
“Ouch!”
Her arm shot back up into her chest and she nearly fell backwards in shock. Something had cut her finger. It couldn’t have been an animal, she thought, or even a bug. She hadn’t felt anything bite her.
Creeping her hand slowly down toward the log again, she felt around for what could’ve cut her finger. She felt a sharp point then tapped it softly, making sure it hadn’t run away.
Thorns.
Her eyes suddenly grew wide and she stoop up straight, her head snapping around for any sign of familiarity. She did not remember a log with thorns having fallen across the lane, or even a log at all. Nora’s lane had been like a clearing. The trees were lined up perfectly on either side, and you could still feel the gravel through the dead leaves and topsoil. Jilly took a step back and thrust her hand to the ground, digging through leaves and sticks for any trace of gravel left from the lane. She felt around in every direction, scouring every area as far as she could reach at least three times over, finding not one hint of gravel.
Trying to keep her composure, Jilly shuffled back to the tree that Eli had hung his belt on, shuffling more swiftly now than silently. She came to where the tree should have been, and it was nowhere to be found. Staying more silent now than ever, she scanned the horizon in every direction, looking for anything that might be familiar in the scattered moonlight of the woods.
In the distance a branch fell – at least 500 yards away, Eli would’ve said. Shadows darted in and out of her periphery, scurrying out of sight the minute she could focus. Jilly wasn’t sure if she could actually hear leaves rustling or if it was just the wind. Time would still her mind.
After minutes of paranoid, terrifying silence, she heard the distinct cracking of twigs and crunching of leaves familiar only to something that was moving. It was close – maybe 200 yards at its furthest – and Jilly was having a hard time convincing herself that it wasn’t moving toward her.
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