11 – Anthony

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“I haven’t used the toilet at home since,” Nina said. “I wait until I’m at school now.”

Chris pointed to his finger. “Was the ring black? And you said, what was that word?”

Nina nodded. “Iridescent? It reflects different colours when you turn it, like holographic paper.”

“The ring my dog was given looked like that. And the hand that gave it to him was green.”

“Wow,” Chuck said, “what a crap story.”

McQueen and Hagman laughed. Nobody else did. The Caretaker shoved chairs into their hands and pointed to the utility room.

“Once the rest of these chairs are put away, I’ll call for your parents to take you home,” he said. “Not bad, everyone. It took us less than two hours to do.”

“We shouldn’t have had to clean this crap up in the first place,” Chuck said.

“You shouldn’t have thrown food in the first place.”

“I still say it’s not fair.”

“I’m starting to think your idea of fair, kid, is what benefits you and you alone,” the Caretaker said, and before Chuck could respond, handed him two more chairs. “Four of these each to go, boys and girls. I believe that’s enough time for this young man, Anton, I believe your name is?”

“Yes.” Anton said.

“Enough time for Anton to tell us a story of his own.”

Everyone took a chair and lined up to put them away. All except Anton. He stood to one side and stared at nothing in particular, then began.

“It happened that afternoon the sky went dark, but unlike Livia, I wasn’t chasing a light. If anything, I was running away.”

Anthony’s Story

The shortcut I took through the woods was my usual one. The sky on the other hand got darker far quicker than its usual time, even this late in the year. It was almost like the clouds wanted to blot out the already lacking sun.

The path led through woods on the outskirts of town, past a couple of farms, to my dad’s. It wound around small ponds and copses of trees, bordered with thorns and nettles and any other plant that could hurt you. The path split every now and then, but I grew up here. I knew every twist and turn the woods could throw at me. Until that day.

At first I thought I’d been so lost in my head, I’d gotten lost in reality. I ended up back at a point in the woods the path split into six different directions. Each one was identical and without knowing which path I was on in the first place, I had no way to tell which one was which.

But hey, I figured all I had to do was walk down one to see where it led and backtrack to the split to take the right path from there.

Halfway down that first path, I passed a man. A tall man, freakishly tall, blocking my way. I could make out his pale skin, but his features were hidden in the shadows of the leaves. With the sky getting darker by the second, I politely told him “good evening” and walked on by. His head turned after me without a word, so I sped up.

After a few steps, I emerged into a familiar clearing. Not because I recognized it as a landmark, but because the path split in six identical directions. Crap. I was back where I started!

Kicking some leaves across the path I’d just taken, I broke into a jog along another.

Halfway down that next path, I saw the man again. He blocked the path, wearing the kind of suit I was forced into at the funeral of me and cousin Wyllow’s grandma. I said nothing this time, turned and ran back to kick leaves across that path as well, and took another.

I ran less than I had last time when I ran into him again, this time literally. As I rounded an overgrown tree, I bumped into his side.

“Sorry,” I said, and ran past, emerging back onto the split.

There were only three paths left uncovered now and I took each one, each time seeing the tall, pale man in the suit had gotten closer to the split.

I backtracked each time, not wanting to go near him. I wanted to call for help, but the signal on my phone was gone, despite always having perfect reception here before, and I didn’t want any help from him. As I turned to head down the final path, however, he stood at its entrance, practically in the clearing.

I couldn’t go down that path. I just couldn’t, so I ran in the opposite direction. By now the sky was pitch black and I stumbled and fell through the trees, left the path completely, weaving and pushing, almost swimming through the brush, trying to get anywhere but…

There.

I emerged back into the split, halfway down the only path I hadn’t yet taken. I couldn’t see the man. I didn’t have to. I knew exactly where he was.

Long fingers wrapped around my head and something, nothing, pushed through my thoughts. A thousand worms or snakes, or just …something, filled my head. The woods stretched out to infinity and back into my face as my vision blurred. Then a sharp pain and a bright light filled my head.

~Nothing~  no voice said.   ~Like the other children before you. You know nothing about it~

“Know what?” I said.

Another voice answered. “Hey, he’s awake!”

“Who’s awake?”

“Anton?” a familiar voice said. “Anton, it’s me, dad.”

I opened my eyes and looked into the same fuzzy blur I saw every morning. “Dad?”

“That’s right, son. It’s me. What happened? Did someone do this to you? Are you okay?”

Another light shone into my eye. A man in a luminous jacket held a tiny torch and flashed it repeatedly until I pushed his hand away.

“He’s got a fever, “the man with the torch said. “Let’s get him home to bed.”

My dad nodded and picked me up. He hadn’t done that since I was a baby.

“A lot of the kids have been found like this on their way home,” the man with the torch told my dad. “There must be some kind of stomach bug going around. Hopefully it’ll clear up soon.”

That night my dad tucked me into bed with a glass of water by my side and another check on the thermometer.

“Temperature’s down,” he said. “No going out this weekend. Get some sleep.”

Apparently I needed it. As soon as sleep was suggested, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. As they closed, though, I caught a flicker of movement at my window. Before my eyelids clamped down, I could have sworn I saw a pale face over in a dark suit.