Down the Lane

Latrus steered his car down a narrow lane overrun with grass and tree roots and neglect. He had been on the way to the hardware store, where he worked as a clerk, when something caught his eye, scurried off the road and onto the lane. Too big for a dog but too small for a deer, and just a glimpse of brown fur before it was gone, bounding into the forest on legs that seemed impossibly long.

After a mile or so, the crooked lines of an old hunting shelter leered ahead like a shipwreck. It wasn’t big, about ten feet in all directions, but it had character. Judging by its construction and design, Latrus guessed it was probably built somewhere in the late eighteen-hundreds. And he had his metal detecting equipment in the trunk, as he had gone on a field hunt the day before and had returned too late to bother with putting it away. He’d had a glass of water and gone to bed, legs and back stiff from all the bending and digging.

He parked the sedan in front of the structure and turned off the engine. He would be late, but it wouldn’t be the first time. He’d tell them he’d gotten a flat tire and the jack had given him trouble on top of that. They’d believe him or they wouldn’t; that wasn’t his problem. Right now, his problem was that he was staring at virgin ground in front of a relic, and he couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.

He sent a text to his boss and put the phone down without waiting for a reply. He opened the door and walked to the rear of the car, moving slowly to soak in the sunshine. His muscles protested, but he popped the trunk anyway, retrieving his gear.

He closed the trunk, and that’s when he saw the girl.

He thought she looked to be eighteen, maybe, but she could have been twenty just the same. She was standing near the side of the dilapidated structure, staring back at Latrus. Her hair was more orange than brown, and her simple clothing—a checkered shirt that buttoned in front and faded blue jean shorts—looked to Lat as if they had seen time at the local thrift store. Her nondescript brown shoes almost matched the dirt below them. “Hello, there!” Lat said, and waved. The girl didn’t do anything. “What are you doing way out here?” he asked. Still, nothing.

Her eyes caught the sun then, producing a shine that was almost otherworldly. Finally, she smiled. At first, Latrus smiled back. But then, slowly, he realized the smile she wore wasn’t nice, didn’t look quite right. Her gaze shifted almost imperceptibly, and Latrus looked behind him.

There was a boy, too, about the same age, leaning against the car. His round face was dirty, and a bush of blond hair flopped around on his head without rhyme or reason. He wore a bright blue t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts that hung down below his knees. On his feet were faded white sports cleats stained a ruddy red that made Latrus uneasy. “The question isn’t what are we doing out here, mister," the boy said. "It’s what are you doing out here? This ain’t a place for folks like you.”

Latrus blinked, as if he'd seen a camera flash. “Folks like me? Say now, that’s no way to begin. Let’s start this over. I’m Latrus, but most call me Lat. I thought I saw an animal come this way from the road, so I followed it when saw this old hunting cabin. I like to hunt for things in the dirt, so I brought this.” He held his metal detector and accessory bag up with a smile. “I won’t be long. What are your names?”

“Names aren’t important,” said the boy. “But you can call me Alex.” He nodded toward the girl. “She’s Ruth.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex and Ruth,” Lat said. “You two seem a little intense. Is something wrong?”

Alex shot Ruth a cynical glance. “Everything is wrong, all the time. You normies are just too dumb to see it.” He laughed then, and Ruth folded her arms, an unsettling grin forming on her face. Alex continued: “Looks like that stuff is pretty expensive, huh? You must have a good job.”

“I get by,” Lat said. “I’m not rich. But I make it work.”

The boy shoved himself off the car and sauntered forward a few steps. “Yeah, well, I’m going to have to take it now. Your stuff. It’s ours.”

Lat laughed. “You cant be serious. This ‘stuff,’ as you call it, took me years to accumulate. You cant just say it’s yours and think that will work. What the heck is wrong with you two? Is this some sort of shakedown?”

“Something like that, I guess,” said the boy. “Give it to us, and we’ll let you leave.”

Lat held up a hand, his smile now a thin, pursed line. “Okay, this has gone far enough. You kids go smoke a joint somewhere, and I’ll get to hunting this ground. Like I said, I’ll be quick. Not more than an hour. Half that, maybe.”

The boy shook his head. “That isn’t the deal. Hand the stuff over, then drive away. Or don’t, and you’ll never drive away again.”

Ruth giggled, looked at the ground. “And we’ll get your stuff anyway. I guess you see the conundrum.”

“Look,” Lat said, “this is entertaining, it really is, but I’m already late for work and I’ve got to get moving if I’m going to make it in by lunch and keep my job. Please, just let me hunt for a little bit and I’ll be gone. Is this your land or something? Do your parents own it? If so, I apologize and will be on my way.”

“We don’t own no land,” said the boy. “We own your stuff, or we own you and your stuff. Simple as that, Lat.”

“I don’t appreciate your threatening tone, and I’m not going to give you my stuff. In fact,” he said, now visibly annoyed, “I’m going to give you two the ultimatum. If you aren’t both gone inside of thirty seconds, I’m going to—“

But he was cut short when the boy began to float off of the ground and into the air. Before long, he was above Lat’s head, allowing view of the individual cleats on the bottoms of his shoes. Lat realized in horror that each one had been filed to a sharp point. They reminded Lat of shark’s teeth he’d seen at a museum on a school field trip. He had tried to kiss Penny Anders on the bus ride home and had been rejected, entirely and with volume.

Alex moved backward then, away from Lat, until he was above the car. The boy smiled and came down with such force the hood folded into the car’s engine bay as if it were made of paper mache instead of hard steel. The crash was so loud it took over the world for a moment, a solar system colliding with a galaxy, and then all was silent except for Ruth’s giggles, devoid of any real joy.

“Whoa!” exclaimed Lat, jumping backward. Lat wasn’t a “Whoa!” type guy. When he’d been nine, his sister had poured a pan of hot water on him while he slept, as a joke, not understanding the danger. Even then, when he’d been violently plucked from a deep slumber by scalding water and a snickering little voice, he had not said “Whoa!” He had simply sat up in bed, rubbed the burned portion of his leg with his hand, and winced. If ever there was a “Whoa!” moment for Latrus Bigsby, however, that very moment would have been the one.

The grin never left Ruth’s face as she sank out of sight behind the hunting shanty. At the moment, Lat had other things to worry about, such as the flying boy who ruined his car with a pair of filed-down battle cleats. He glanced back to find Ruth and Alex sitting on what was left of the car’s hood, smiling, their shoulders and heads touching. “Okay,” he said, “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, and how you can fly or how you got from the building to the car so fast, but you can have my stuff. Here.” Lat dropped his detecting equipment on the ground to his right. “I didn’t see a thing. I’m a ghost.”

The smile on Alex’s face widened. “Now you’re getting the idea.”

“All right. The stuff is there. Move away from my car so I can leave, and never come back.” Alex spat onto the ground next to him and wiped his chin. Ruth only grinned and cocked her head to the other side. Lat resolved. “Fine. Game over. Outta my way. You kids aren’t going to ruin the rest of my day, too. I have to get to work. There’s the stuff.” He straightened up and made to move past them, body rigid and tight. The keys were already in the ignition; he only had to get to the door. But he never made it to the door because there was no door. Not anymore. The side of the car was completely smooth, as if the doors had never been there to begin with.

“You’re right about one thing, mister,” Ruth said. “This game is over. We already gave you a chance. More than one. You chose the option of we get you and your stuff.”

“I chose no such thing. You idiots are playing with me.”

“You chose by not choosing,” she replied coldly. “There are no gray areas.”

Alex popped himself off the hood and sauntered over to Lat’s detector and bag. “What is this stuff, anyway? You said you were hunting?” He idly kicked the large green canvas bag where Lat kept his accessories. “None of this looks like it could kill anything.”

Lat would have laughed if circumstances were different. Instead, he sighed impatiently. “Not hunting like that. It’s metal detecting stuff. It finds things buried in the ground, like old coins or tools, bullets, things like that.”

He glanced at Ruth, who rolled her eyes and stood. “Anyway, it’s ours now and we’ll figure it out. The real question,” she said, walking toward Lat, her green eyes locked on his, “is what to do with you.”

Alex laughed. It sounded forced and empty. “Yeah! What are we gonna do with him, sis?”

Ruth pointed a finger at him. “Shut up. That’s enough. We’ll discuss this in private.”

They disappeared behind the shack, leaving Lat to wonder if he should try to run. Then he wondered what would happen if he ran and they caught him. They appeared again, from around the corner; they were holding hands.

“We have to kill you,” Ruth said without emotion, “but we want to show you something first. And you were smart not to run. That option gets really, really bad.” She turned to Alex, who was already looking at her. Lat sensed a hunger in the boy that made him feel sick. “Are you ready?” she asked. Alex nodded and closed his eyes as his sister moved closer until they were kissing, a deep kiss, tongues dancing and writhing as they explored the taboo. Ruth moaned softly and Alex grabbed her shoulders.

“This is sick!” Lat yelled. “Sick! What the hell is wrong with you two? Right here? And you’re related?”

Ruth broke their kiss and licked her lips, smirking at Lat. “Age don’t matter. And it don’t matter we’re kin, either. The heart wants what it wants.” Then she got up and stood in front of Lat. “I’ve had enough of this,” she boomed. “You’re the sick one, working as a slave for someone day in and day out, hunting for scraps in the ground others have dropped. At least we have real fun. Watch.”

She turned toward the car, tweaked her hand until her fingers were a stiff mess, and raised it into the air. The car followed, lifting off the ground as if it were filled with helium. Ruth made a fist and brought her hand down, fast. As she did, the car came down, too, so hard that it popped the tires and bent the wheels, which were now only partially visible inside the wells.

She looked back to Lat and laughed. “You’re going to watch us. You can play along, if you like, or you can stand there and drool. Afterward, we take you inside.” She glanced to the hunting shack and returned to her brother. She straddled him and kissed him again, passionately. His hands roamed over her back, then to the waist of her jeans and down to her rear, where he slid his hands into the back pockets of her shorts and pulled her toward him.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Lat yelled. But they kept going. Their moans filled him with dread, and he turned around. But the same scene was behind him, too. Alex had slipped Ruth’s shirt over her head. Muscles in her back writhed and flexed underneath smooth, white skin as she reached for his shorts and he growled. “I’m not watching this anymore,” Lat yelled at the couple. He closed his eyes, but the scene remained. He shoved his palms into them and pressed hard, but they were still there, kissing and pawing and undulating.

Lat, terrified, opened his eyes, then, and began encouraging them. “Oh, yeah, you two, this is hot! Way better than an old pocket watch or coin out of the ground. Oh, yeah, this is dirty!” He’d hoped they’d stop, that his words would have the opposite effect on them and they’d do something else.

He was telling them that they should should sell video tapes of their acts when he heard a male voice, loud and gruff. “Looks like I got a sicko out here off Route Eleven, near the old Hodges place.”

Lat turned to see a mustached police officer, large and unhappy, speaking into a two-way radio and pointing a revolver at him. “That the one with the old cabin?” the radio screeched back.

“That’s the one. I’m standing right in front of it. Send two cars, if they are available.”

“Ten-four, units are on their way.”

Lat heard sirens in the distance as the officer approached, his black weapon trained on Lat’s chest. “You stay nice, there, buddy, and this will all be over soon. What do we have going on here? A little party?” he said. “You two okay? What’s this man done to you? The hell is going on, here?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Lat. “These two are the criminals, not me! Ask them yourself.”

“Get on the ground, buddy, nice and slow. We’ll talk all this out in a jiffy. But right now, I need you to drop to the ground and put your hands behind your head, fingers interlaced.”

“Oh, my god,” Lat said, but did as he was told.

Two more cruisers roared down the tiny lane and skidded to a stop close by. Lat heard the sound of car doors opening and closing as the large officer slipped handcuffs on him. “Got him. He’s ours!” he yelled as footsteps approached in the gravel.

“What is all this? Did you see that car?” said a second male voice, presumably another officer. “He some sort of predator?”

“Yeah, I think maybe so,” the large officer huffed as he took his knee off Lat’s back and hoisted him to his feet by the handcuffs chain. “Over there," he said to the second officer. "See to them while I run a check on this scumbag. Said he was going to sell video tapes of them, or something.” Footsteps, growing fainter. “You’re going away for a long time, pal. You got anything to say?” He began to walk toward his cruiser, and Lat followed. The officer stopped walking and so did Lat. “What’s this? The car ain’t got any doors. This yours?”

Lat nodded.

“How the hell do you get in and out? And what the hell happened to the wheels?”

The second officer, whom Lat hadn’t yet seen, came barreling at them in the air so fast they had to duck. It was as if he’d been shot from a cannon, but Lat knew he’d been thrown. When the man landed, Lat and the large officer saw he’d been crudely separated at the waist. They didn’t know where his legs and hips were.

“Did I hear someone say ‘in and out?’” Ruth bellowed, now nude and glowing bright white. “Stick around for the show! It’s something you’ll never forget.”

Then her brother was behind her, glowing a dull but powerful yellow-orange. When their bodies touched, the light around them was impossibly bright, a martian sun setting around lovers cruel and black. The remaining officers ran for their vehicles to find their doors had gone, too. They tried to run into the forest, but their muscles were not theirs to control any longer.

They all stood frozen, forced to watch a twisted act of perversion and power unfold, as the sounds from the lovers grew louder, more frenzied, and their light grew stronger.

When they were done, Ruth and Alex crumpled to the ground, slick with sweat, lungs working overtime, and the world went silent. Lat’s final thought, before he never thought again, was: I wonder if they’re going to fire me at work.