Broken Things by G. S. Wright Read Free Book Online Page A

possible explanation that made sense. Not a single car or truck had
come down the road the entire time.
    He spent his days wandering around his small piece of the
wilderness. He spent the most time by the river skipping and throwing rocks,
but he couldn’t see the road, and between his head and the water he wondered if
he could even hear a car if it approached. He wandered through the trees for a
bit, always careful to keep the camp in sight. He found a branch that made a
good sword to fight trees with, threw rocks at a chipmunk until it ran away (he
never hit it), and trekked half-way up a mountain before he’d got bit by a
horsefly, ruining the experience. He even saw a few deer pass by. They stared
at him curiously, and traipsed away, unconcerned by his presence.
    He felt things changing in his head though he couldn’t tell what
exactly was happening. Maybe things were slowing down or wobbling. He vowed to
stay true to what he’d told his dad. He would fix himself. There had to be a
way. They hardly ever let him on the tablet computer, but there would be
something on the internet. He’d study and learn what he could do. Too bad there
weren’t computers in the woods, he could’ve got started.
    Each night went by much the same. He would hear creatures
outside his tent, rummaging through the garbage of what had once been his food,
the stuff not worth picking up, searching for scraps they had missed. Josh
prayed that whatever was out there wouldn’t try to get into the tent for what
he had. Once one of the animals actually put its nose against the tent and
sniffed, rubbing against the fabric as though trying to decide if getting in
would be worth it. It sounded small, like a fox or raccoon. He’d dug through
the boxes his mother had left, but all he had were spare clothes. They hadn’t
even packed him a flashlight. It made his nights nearly unbearable.
    Evening came and his stomach felt unbearably empty. He had
one can of soda remaining, but he decided to save it for breakfast. But there
was something else, tonight felt different. It felt just as uncomfortable as
the other nights, but he sensed a new element. As the sun dipped behind the
mountains and the shadows grew longer it felt as though something were watching
him.
    It grew too cold and dark to remain outside much longer. He
turned, sensing something, or someone, in the trees. He could nearly look right
at where he could feel the eyes, but he only saw trees and brush and shadows.
    “Hello?” he called out, but nothing answered.  
    He couldn’t tell if anything were out there. Could it be
another deer? His mind played tricks on him every night, making monsters out of
shadows until he would rush to the tent and hide in his sleeping bag.
Fortunately nothing had eaten him yet. But the shadows tonight felt alive,
sinister, much more than usual. Sometimes he just knew when he was being
watched, like feeling eyes on the back of his head. This felt much like that.
The shadows seemed… real. If the wind would die down, and if he could separate
noises from the river and his head, he thought perhaps he could almost hear
breathing.
    If it were, it belonged to someone sicker than him, or not
human, someone that had bad lungs, rasping like a smoker needing to cough.
Every hair stood up on the back of his neck, and he felt an overwhelming need
to run. But where would he run to in the dark? He had nowhere to go. And how
did it get dark so rapidly? As he’d sat there staring, watching for movement,
the night blanketed his campsite until even the shadows were indiscernible from
one another, and the tree tops were black silhouettes against a midnight blue
sky.
    Josh forced himself to walk as nonchalantly to his tent as
possible. Don’t show fear. That’s what they tell you about animals. What if
it’s not an animal? Don’t think about that. Just… walk… It’ll be gone in the
morning. It’s just shadows, nothing more.  
    Hiding in the tent felt a little safer, if