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

only in the fact
that he wasn’t lost in the woods. Well, technically he knew he was lost.
Otherwise he’d be home in his warm bed. His ears strained against the natural
cacophony of the environment, trying to separate and discern different sounds,
praying to not really hear anything. The high-pitched whine from his head
fought to blanket out everything else. Perhaps the damage was a blessing,
giving him the bliss of ignorance.
    No. There was something there.  It sounded like…
something pulling itself across the ground.
    Drag. Silence. Drag. Silence. Drag. He could hear it
pull itself across the twigs and dirt and leaves, coming closer, getting
louder. It moved so slowly, yet steadily. Whatever it was it had seen him enter
the tent. And it sounded big.
    The darkness of the tent was absolute, no light, not from a
moon nor the stars, penetrated the fabric. Though a barrier from the outside,
Josh felt like a mouse in a thin cardboard box. He squeezed his pillow tightly
and scrunched deep into his sleeping bag. He could no longer hear the whining
in his head over how loudly his heart beat in his chest. He was sure that
whatever approached could hear both.
    The thing continued ever closer and closer, right up
to his tent. Josh’s eyes were wide but he couldn’t see anything. He tried to
breathe quietly, to control his whimpering, and to mute the sound of his brain.
He couldn’t stop any of it. Something like a paw, or a hand , moved along
the tent, the structure shifting, fighting to remain up as the thing’s weight pressed against it. Somehow it didn’t collapse. He strained his eyes to
see it, he could barely make out the walls of the tent, see the impression of
something leaning into it, coming dangerously close to collapsing his tenuous
shelter.
    He fought to find his voice but his throat wouldn’t work. He
only emitted a tiny whimper. It patted the tent, searching. And then Josh heard
the zipper.
    It unzipped slowly, sounding impossibly loud against the
stillness of the woods, a premonition of something horrible, unknowable. The
thing slid down with the zipper, using its own weight to pull it open. If
only he could see. What was it? But he didn’t want to see it! He closed
his eyes tightly, willing himself to be quiet, to become invisible. Maybe it
couldn’t see him in the dark either.
    The chill of the mountain’s night air filled the tent,
bringing with it a new scent. He nearly gagged, smelling something rotten. It
reminded him of spoiling meat mixed with the smell of an old garbage can.
Whatever it was, the thing fell into the tent . Its weight landed
with a dull thud. He could hear its breathing now, a pained, sick rasping, a
wheezing, as though it fought for each breath.
    Josh pulled his knees to his chin, making himself as small
as possible. Please make it go away , he prayed, please send it away!
    The thing dragged itself into the tent, and he felt a
tug on the bottom of his sleeping bag. It pulled on it, slapped along the bag,
searching for him. And then its hand came to rest on his foot.
    Terror seized him and he kicked away from it, leaping out of
the sleeping bag and into the corner of the tent. He pressed himself against
the wall as hard as he could. He had nowhere to run.
    “Go away!” Josh said with his voice nothing but high-pitched
whisper. He couldn’t see it, not even a silhouette, but it drew closer, until
Josh could feel its hot, fetid breath on his face. It smelled foul, of refuse.
    Josh held perfectly still, he could feel the thing’s
movement inches from his skin. It sniffed him with deep congested snorts. He
wanted to shove past it and run, but his arms and legs felt like they’d turned
to jelly. They wouldn’t obey him, they didn’t want to move. He considered
playing dead, but this wasn’t a bear. No way was it a bear, unless they knew
how to open zippers. It had to be something dead. Nothing else could smell so
bad. He began to cry. It’s going to eat me!
    The whine in his