Chapter One
(20 years ago)
“Eleven, twelve, thirteen…”
Sean could hear his sister’s voice clearly as he loped across the pasture towards the stone fence that marked the edge of his grandmother’s property. When she reached twenty Mary would open her eyes, turn around and start hunting for her brothers. And, even though Mary was the youngest, she was the most competitive of the O’Reilly family. Sean grinned as he pictured his eight year-old sister searching for him. She would never give up, but she was not going to find him this time.
He took a deep breath of air. The air smells different in Ireland , he thought, like it has something extra added to it. Maybe magic.
He grinned at his own flight of fancy. Now he was sounding like his grandmother; magic and the fey. You must show respect for the little people , she’d said. Sean snickered to himself. If she lived in Chicago, his mother would probably have to put her in a home if someone heard her talking like that. But, for some reason, the people who lived in Ireland actually believed in stuff like that. He rolled his eyes. Yeah, like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.
A few more steps and he finally reached the stone wall. He marveled at how all those different sizes and shapes actually worked together to create a wall that was hundreds of years old. He placed his foot in a depression and grabbed the wide top of the fence, pulling himself on top. He looked back for a moment; Mary was nearly done with the counting. He could see his younger twin brothers hiding near the cottage. Arthur was behind the well and Tommy was in the shed. Shaking his head, he grimaced. What idiots! If he could see them from where he was, Mary would find them in a minute.
He shrugged, he was sure they were still spooked. They were ten years old, and believed the stories his grandmother had shared the night before. Beware of the forest, she had warned, there are things that go on in there that no human can explain. Scaredy-cats, they wouldn’t go very far from the cottage, Grandma sure pulled one over on them.
He rolled over the top and jumped down. His feet hit the soft loam on the other side and it felt squishy, like he was walking on carpet. He hurried away from the fence. They were never going to find him. He would win the game so well it would be epic. They would talk about it for years.
The air was cooler on this side, like the sun didn’t shine quite as brightly. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Mary in the distance heading towards the shed. Grinning, he nodded his head. Yeah, they’d be caught in a few seconds. Losers.
Turning from the fence, he followed the narrow path that led into the woods. Once he stepped onto the path and turned towards the thick trees and dense foliage, his heartbeat quickened. Strange things happened in those woods . He could hear his grandmother voice the warning as if she were standing right behind him. Pausing for a moment, he weighed his options. He didn’t really need to go into the woods, he reasoned. Hopping the fence was enough.
“Sean, you’re next,” Mary yelled, “you left your trail in the grass.”
He spun around and looked over the fence. Sure enough, there was a distinct line in the grass where he’d walked and Mary was running across the pasture towards him. She’d be sure to climb over the fence. Mary wasn’t afraid of anything.
He glanced back over his shoulder; the woods didn’t seem all that scary. Not as scary as losing to Mary. He was just letting his imagination run away with him. And, really, it wouldn’t be an epic win if he didn’t hide in the woods. Mustering up his courage, he took a quick breath, ran down the path and burst into the gloomy shades of the forest.
He stopped a few feet in to let his eyes adjust to the loss of light. The tree canopy blocked out most of the afternoon sun and the dense foliage seemed to muffle any sounds. He
Learning to Kill: Stories