Moonstruck by Nicole McKeon

Author:Nicole McKeon [Nicole McKeon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nicole McKeon
Published: 2023-05-10T00:00:00+00:00

Tony appeared in the window after the seventh pebble struck the glass with a little ping. He stepped onto the road only minutes later, his blonde hair mussed and nearly white in the moonlight.

“What is it?” he asked, voice rough from sleep and, I had to admit, rather appealing.

“Sam was attacked in the woods, and I’m worried about the old woman who lives there.”

“Sam? Wait. How—”

“No time,” I said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him off into the dark.

I explained Sam’s story, and my own, as quickly as I could while Tony scanned the ground with the beam of light from the torch I gave him. At least one of us was prepared.

Then again, I hadn’t wanted to waste time fetching Tony in the first place and only jogged to his rooms because I promised Sally before leaving the house that I would warn him. So, I could be excused from forgetting that I did not, in fact, have night vision. What I did have was a friend with common sense who was probably also a better marksman than I.

The beam of light was steadier than any torch or lantern light would have been and picked out the path easily from amongst the undergrowth. It absolutely destroyed our night vision, but without it, we would have only seen shifting shadows under the canopy, full moon or not.

Now and then our passage disturbed the pixies, who floated out of their leafy bowers and flickered irritably. Their pale green glow added to the torchlight, and since my imagination was already primed to look for monsters, I was more than grateful for the extra illumination.

Before long, Sam’s footprints appeared in the dirt. We followed them, noting where they stopped, turned, disappeared, and then reappeared a few steps later as if he’d either jumped or been picked up. An icy chunk of dread lodged itself in my throat when Sam’s stride lengthened, his footprints digging into the path at the toes and leaving flicks of dirt behind.

“He was terrified,” I whispered, touching a print and imagining him running headlong through the wood.

Tony spun the flashlight, but no yellow eyes reflected the light back at us, and the crickets and night birds continued to sing happily. That was a good sign. Animals know when dangerous creatures are about, and monsters affect them more significantly than mundane predators.

“You said the old woman’s hut was on this path?” Tony asked as we continued.

“Yes, but I came at it from the other side this afternoon, so I’m uncertain if—”

The words died in my throat as Tony’s light raked across the wreckage. A great elm tree had toppled directly onto the center of the hut, blowing the building apart. Stones, broken pieces of clay pottery, branches, and chunks of wall lay scattered as far as fifty feet from the original structure. Crumbling pieces of wattle and daub jutted up from either side of the tree trunk, the only proof a warm little home had once existed here.

“Look at the trees,” Tony said.

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