They Don't Come Back - Part Two

Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night to find the entire world unnervingly still and quiet? As a kid, nothing panicked me more than being awake at night, feeling utterly alone. None of those familiar noises, TVs, traffic, your neighbor mowing the lawn, or your sisters playing with Barbies in the other room. In those moments, you are completely alone, as if you were the only person on earth. That scared me more than anything, because when you’re fully alone, that’s when you’re most vulnerable. I was never sure exactly what I felt vulnerable to, but in those moments, it felt like a malevolent darkness was only inches away.

That’s how I felt after I’d finished having a look around the house. I might have actually preferred to find a squatter than having to accept that I was most likely the only person on this side of the mountain. No one else for miles. Alone. Alone with nothing to fill the silence but the thoughts in my own head, and right now those thoughts were deafening.

I tried to distract myself by taking inventory of what furniture was left behind, as well as familiarizing myself with the big old house. On the second floor, there were seven bedrooms, most of which were rather small. Two of them had an adjoining bathroom between them. Nearly all of them had fireplaces. There was a larger master bedroom with a bathroom attached, which I decided would be the one I slept in. At the end of the hallway was a large open space with another set of stairs leading down to the kitchen, and tall windows that looked out into the backyard toward the woods. I stood there for a moment, taking it all in. It was quite beautiful and peaceful; however, despite being midday, the forest beyond looked as dark as night. I wondered what sort of ‘fucked up stories’ Ben’s grandfather had told him about those woods.

As for furniture, the dining room had a table and chairs, and an empty china cabinet. A few of the bedrooms on the second floor had beds, but no mattresses. Not that I would have slept on one anyway. While looking for the breaker box in the basement, I noticed a few floor lamps, so I went back down and brought those upstairs. Of the three, only one had a working light bulb. I should have bought bulbs at the store in town, but that could wait until tomorrow.

I didn’t feel like putting my desk together, so I set up my computer on the dining room table. Afterward, I grabbed one of the apples I’d bought and headed outside to take a walk around the property.

Being alone in a large, old, empty house felt unsettling, but being outside with no one else around, surrounded by woods and sprawling overgrown fields, felt incredible. In our twenties, Beth and I had done a lot of backcountry hiking and backpacking. I loved the solitude and privacy that came with being in the wilderness or out in the countryside.

To the east of the house sat an old barn. From where I stood, I could see that the slate roof had been compromised, leaving a sagging depression with a gaping hole at the center. There was no clear path to the barn, and as curious as I was to see what might be inside, ticks are disgusting little demons, so I decided against fighting my way through the overgrowth.

About two hundred yards from the back of the house, those dark woods loomed ominously. As I mentioned, I love to be in the wilderness. I’m more comfortable in the woods than I ever was in the city, but something about these woods felt off. Their darkness seemed unnatural, in comparison to the warm glow of the afternoon sunlight on the field’s grasses and wildflowers, like a golden yellow sea.

As I stood and looked into those woods, I had this strange sense that I wasn’t welcome, that I was looking at something that didn’t want to be seen. And yet, I also felt as if they were calling me, beckoning me to peek behind that veil of darkness.

Being so far out in the county meant I’d have to rely on satellite internet and wouldn’t have the equipment for at least another couple of days. Not that I needed the internet. I’d taken the week off work to get settled. Still, in a world where all of our music and television comes from the internet, it’s amazing how lost you feel when you suddenly don’t have access. Thankfully, I did have a small box of books, most of which I’d already read, but a few I hadn’t read yet. I plopped down in my desk chair that I’d wheeled into the parlor to take advantage of the west-facing windows that were letting in the last of the day’s sunlight, and cracked open my book.

Less than a page into the book, I became aware of just how noisy the country was. In the city, all of the sounds we as humans produce drown out the nonhuman sounds. Here, those nonhuman sounds appeared to grow louder and louder each passing second. Outside, nature’s orchestra played a chaotic nocturne. While inside, the old house groaned and creaked, and the occasional scrapping and gnawing of mice could be heard in the walls.

After struggling to get through the first couple of pages, I set the book aside and crawled into my sleeping bag on the parlor floor. It was still fairly early, the sun hadn’t even fully set, but with nothing else to do, I laid down and let the unfamiliar sounds lull me to sleep.

Suddenly, I’m awakened by a deep guttural cracking sound. It was as if the mountain had split itself open. That couldn’t have been a real noise. I was sure I’d dreamt it. Or maybe exploding head syndrome? I had experienced exploding head syndrome before, but that typically happens shortly after falling asleep. It was dark now. I must have been sleeping for at least an hour or two, and why did the air feel so charged? Almost like I could feel the reverberating sound waves too low of a frequency to hear.

I didn’t want to get out of my sleeping bag, although my hips ached from sleeping on the hardwood floor. Reluctantly, I grabbed my phone, tapped on the flashlight, and stood up. My heart was racing. I wasn’t falling back to sleep anytime soon. I figured I might as well walk through the house to see if I could find the source of the noise. I didn’t expect to find anything. Whatever it was, if it was anything at all, must have come from deep in the valley behind the house. I suppose it could have been a rock slide. Some giant boulder resting on a ledge for ages finally succumbed to erosion and gravity, crashing down to the forest floor.

The house took on an entirely different form in the dark. Instead of a structure of wood and plaster, it felt more like walking through a living thing. The walls seemed to expand and contract in the light of the weak flashlight, like they were inhaling and exhaling. Shadows stretched and pulsed like blood pumping through veins. Its hallways are like the throat of some ancient beast.

As I expected, there was nothing out of place. After checking each room on the second floor, I walked over to the tall windows at the back of the house that faced the woods. I’m not sure what I thought I would see out there in the dark, but I turned off the phone’s flashlight and let my eyes adjust to the moonlight. That’s when I saw him. Saw it. Whatever it was. A figure, or what looked like a figure, just along the woodline. Barely discernible against the wall of trees. It wasn’t moving, just standing there at the edge of the forest. It had to have been a trick of the light. An old tree stump that the moonlight was hitting just right? It couldn’t be a person, and yet, it was more than a mere silhouette. No, there were, without a doubt, the features of a human face. A face that appeared to be looking right at me.

After a long night of playing solitaire on my computer, the first light of day began to seep into the house. I couldn’t get the image out of my head. That figure at the edge of the woods. There had to be a logical explanation for it. It was either a cruel trick of the light or someone had been back there. I wasn’t sure exactly how close the nearest neighbors were. Ben said there weren’t any, but surely someone lived on one of the adjacent properties. If this property was three hundred and fifty acres, that’s roughly half a square mile. Depending on the size of the neighboring parcels, it stands to reason someone might live within a mile. Maybe they’d heard that terrible sound and gone to investigate. Not sure why they would be standing perfectly still in the dark at the edge of the woods. Maybe they were hunting. It could have been a shotgun or a high-powered rifle that I’d heard. Do people hunt at night? I was desperate to make sense of what I’d seen.

My eyeballs ached from being awake all night. I needed coffee and a good breakfast, and I didn’t want to have to make either of those things myself. Plus, I wanted to get out of the house and away from the woods, and I wanted to be around people. Ironic, I know. I moved out here to get away from people, and after less than twenty-four hours of being here, I find myself wanting to be around other people.

The drive to town on the other side of the mountain was quiet. I didn’t bother with the radio, and I already knew my phone wouldn’t get any signal. I pulled up to the diner and dragged my lifeless body inside. The sign read, ‘Please wait to be seated,’ but a server behind the counter quickly yelled, “Sit anywhere you want,” as soon as I walked in. I chose a booth in the corner. A moment later, a dark-haired girl walked over with a warm smile on her face.

“Hi. I’m Dawn. Can I get you a coffee?”

“Please!” I said, sounding a bit too aggressive. “Sorry. Yes, please. I definitely need some.”

She chuckled. “Cream or sugar?”

“No, thank you.”

“Where ya headed?” she asked as she poured my coffee.

“Nowhere. I actually just moved here.”

“Oh, I assumed you were just passing through since I’d never seen you before.”

“Nope, I’ll be here for at least a little while.”

“Oh, good,” she said with that smile of hers just before she turned and walked away to check on another table.

The coffee was better than expected, and it immediately went to work bringing me back to life. I took another sip and closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the seat.

“Are you ready to order?”

My eyes shot open. Dawn was back. God, I hope I haven’t just fallen asleep at the table.

“Oh, uh. You know I haven’t even looked at the menu. What’s good here? What’s the most popular dish?”

“Everything’s pretty good, honestly. The sausage gravy and biscuits are what we’re known for.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“You really didn’t get any sleep, did you?”

“Maybe just an hour or two. I’m really not sure.” Just before she walked away, I added, “By the way, did you hear any loud noises down here last night? I woke up to the most awful sound.”

The warm smile dropped from her face, replaced by a look of concern, bordering on panic. “No. I don’t remember hearing anything last night. What sort of noise was it?”

“I’m not sure how to describe it. It sounded like stone. Like rock being pulled apart, but it was quick. I wasn’t even sure that it was real. It could have been a dream, but something woke me up, and I couldn’t fall back asleep.” I left out the part about the figure by the woods. I had already embarrassed myself enough in front of this cute girl.

She stared at me blankly for a moment before the smile slowly returned to her face. This time, the smile seemed a bit forced. “Oh, it could have been lots of different things. These hills can manipulate sounds as the waves bounce between them. Probably just someone doing some late-night shooting.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m so used to living in the city and hearing trains and traffic and neighbors having parties. A lot of unfamiliar noises out here.

“Well, welcome to Harman. I’ll get your order in.”

The coffee was hot, but I managed to polish off the cup before Dawn came back with my food.

“Here you go. Sausage gravy and biscuits and here’s some toast as well. I hope you like sourdough, I forgot to ask you what kind of toast you wanted.”

“Sourdough is perfect! Thank you!”

“So what’s your name?”

“Aaron.”

“It’s nice to meet you Aaron. So Why Harman? No offense, but people don’t typically move to Harman, especially not people from the city. This place is sort of past its expiration date if you haven’t noticed.”

“I guess I needed a new start. I wasn’t exactly happy where I was, and my friend Ben, he’s got an old family home here just on the other side of the mountain, and he convinced me to sort of look after the place until he figures out what to do with it.”

At this, Dawn sat down in the booth across from me. The worried look returned to her face.

“The old house at the curve? The one with the barn?”

“Yeah, that’s it. How’d you know?”

“It’s one of the only houses over there. There used to be a few others over on that side of the mountain but they’ve all been torn down, or they’ve been abandoned for so long they’ve collapsed. Have you been back in the woods at all?”

“No. Why?”

“They’re dangerous, that's all. You shouldn’t go back there.”

“What?!” What do you mean they’re dangerous?”

“It’s just that they’re easy to get lost in. Everyone who’s grown up around here knows not to go too far back there. Plenty of stories about people that go in there and they don't come back. That side of the mountain just has, well, it has bad history. All the way back to before Harman was even a town.”

“Thanks for the warning. My friend Ben said his grandfather used to tell him stories about those woods. ‘Fucked up stories’ were his exact words.”

“I’m not surprised. Probably the same fucked up stories my grandpa told me.”

“Like what?” I asked as she stood up.

“I gotta get back to work. Just promise me you won’t go messing around back there.”

“I promise.”

I took another sip of coffee before taking a bite of the sausage gravy and biscuits. Damn, this food is good.