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THE ROAD LESS TRAVELLED

by Eric Essex


Chapter 1

The light on Kim McConnell's answering machine was blinking red when she returned home. Threading her way through the jungle of moving boxes - some of which had yet to be opened - she checked the display and found that there were three messages. All from him, probably. She had a cell phone with voice mail, but she hadn't given him that number. The last thing she needed was him calling her at work.

With a sigh, she pressed the blinking red button and listened as the artificial voice of the machine confirmed that she had three new messages, then:

(Beep)... "Hey, it's Jack. Just called to see how things are goin' with the new place and all. Guess you must be putting in some long hours at the store. You're never home when I call..."

There was a long pause and Kim could just imagine the turn of his head and the slight curling up of one side of his mouth. She knew those pauses well enough. Knew too the face that always accompanied them. There had been at least one in every argument they ever had. In the last couple of conversations they had had before she moved out, Jack had spent as much time pausing and making that face as he had talking down to her.

When he continued, the pretence of civility was gone from his tone.

"Is that what you really want? Spending all your time working in that damn store? You know you're never going to get ahead. You'll be just like all the..."

The machine cut him off just as his voice was starting to rise. Apparently he must have gathered himself together before calling back, because when the second message started to play, he was once again the level-headed Jack of old.

(Beep)... "Look, I'm sorry about that. I miss you, you know? I just don't know what you think you're..."

This time Kim cut him off herself, hitting the Delete button before the message had finished playing. When the third message started to play, she didn't even let the beep finish before she deleted it as well.

She went into the bedroom to change, congratulating herself on the fact that she wasn't crying. She wanted to, sure, but she wasn't going to. Kim had already decided that she had cried enough because of him. But he was still getting to her, there was no denying that. After twelve hours at work, almost all of it on her feet, she should have been ready to just crash for the night, but instead she was changing to go out because she just had to. Tired as she was, she had to get out for a while, away from her new place, away from her boxes, and especially away from that damn answering machine.

So a few minutes later she emerged from the sliding glass door at the back of her condominium. The dress shirt and formal slacks she wore to work had been exchanged for a T-shirt and a comfortable pair of blue jeans. She filled both out as well as any woman her age could, for although she could only claim to be 5' 3" when she stood on her tippy-toes, she was just enough on the fuller side of petite to have curves in all the right places. Her Irish ancestry had blessed her with brownish-red hair that fell at present only to her shoulders and a pale, almost fey-like complexion that was prone to freckle slightly when exposed to the sun. This latter condition, when combined with her short stature and trim figure often made her look younger than she actually was - a thing which she had hated when growing up, but now that she was 29, she was beginning to appreciate it more and more.

The sun was just going down on what had been a beautiful mid-September day. The woods behind her place beckoned, just as they had from the first moment she saw them, but the demands of work and unpacking had to that point fended off their call. Now though, she felt free to explore. More than that, she needed to take a walk. All the nervous energy bound up in her at that moment was never going to let her sleep. It seemed that she had scarcely slept all week. Between the pressures of her new position, the stresses of opening a new store, the general upset of moving to a new town and of course all the unresolved issues of her break-up with him, Kim had been carrying around a knot in her stomach the size of a basketball.

Exercise. Exercise and fresh air, that's what she needed.

A hundred yards or so into the trees, the subtle sound of flowing water began to make itself heard. Following it to its source, Kim discovered a wide but shallow-looking stream twisting its way through the forest. Unseen frogs called to each other from its banks until she drew near. When she bent to dip a hand into the cold, clean water, her reflection was just a wavy silhouette before a pale orange sky that was rapidly fading to grey. Even in the dimming light though, she knew this was a place she would be coming back to again. There had been some thorny weeds she had to fight her way through to get there, but it was worth it. She couldn't even hear the sounds of cars going by! And was that a path on the other side of the stream?

Straightening up, she peered across into the shadowy recesses of the trees there. There was a path. It was overgrown and probably hard to follow even when the sun was higher in the sky, but it was definitely there.

An ancient, fallen tree made a convenient though somewhat tricky bridge. Inching her way across like a tightrope walker, Kim tried to imagine what people would say if they could see her then. Here she was, a serious, mature, professional woman, the newly promoted store manager of the newly opened Discount Drug Depot in the area and what was she doing? Acting like she was a kid again. Yeah, that would make a real good impression on the corporate big-wigs. And as for him, well she could just imagine him nagging her with 'You know, if you fall in, you're going to get all wet!'

In spite of the fact that she had not made such a crossing since she was a girl, Kim did manage to get to the other side without slipping off the log. Once there, she started down the overgrown path, following its twisting, turning route deeper and deeper into the woods. Aside from the fleeting glimpse she caught of chipmunks scurrying from one hiding place to another, nothing stirred. Climbing a gentle slope in the terrain, the trail became a series of switchbacks until it intersected with another. Wider, flatter and straighter, this dirt track through the forest showed constant signs of upkeep while the presence of some old, dried-out horse manure made clear its main purpose. A rickety-looking, three foot high barbed-wire fence followed the bridle trail down its far side.

Stepping up to this leaning, weed-covered barrier, Kim peered through to the woods beyond. The path continued there, though just how far she could not see. The sun was almost completely down by that time, making everything around her dim and uncertain. The sign tacked to a nearby tree was easy enough to make out though. NO TRESPASSING it read in orange letters that had faded considerably from the affects of rain and show throughout the years. Simply that. Unlike other signs of its kind - signs which could be found in the hardware aisle of her store, as it happened - it did not include any descriptions of the dire consequences that awaited those who dared defy it edict. This, Kim decided, was probably the most effective approach. Let potential intruders consider for themselves what could happen and they would naturally imagine whatever they feared most, whether that be criminal prosecution or a double-barrelled shotgun loaded with rock salt.

A quick glance in each direction showed that there was no one coming down the horse trail. "This is such a bad idea," she mumbled as she gingerly scaled the fence. But that's exactly why she was doing it. Day in and day out, she was forced to be the responsible one. At the store, she didn't just play by the rules; she was the one who enforced them. She was the authority figure, and - as her district manager had reminded her on many occasions - it was incumbent upon her to lead by example.

But she wasn't at the store now. So to Hell with the rules!

Still...

When she reached the NO TRESPASSING sign, she plucked it off the tree it was tacked to and threw it into the under-brush. There, she thought with a smile at her own cunning, Now if I run into anyone, I can say I didn't see the sign.

Having hedged her bets, she continued on, following the trail as best she could in the rising twilight. It wasn't long before she lost it completely. Assured of her sense of direction, she pushed on, confident that she could retrace her steps when she was ready to turn back. The ground levelled out some as she went, but the woods were no less dense. Because of this, the house was a sudden and unexpected discovery.

Though the primeval forest closed in upon it from all sides, it stood amid an oasis of manicured lawns, ornamented here and there by artificial ponds and small, well-maintained flower gardens. Dozens of electric lamps, set on 8' iron poles, were spread throughout the grounds, providing soft illumination even in this hour. As for the house itself, it was a monster. Three stories high - not counting the antique attic and widow's walk - it consisted of a central structure from which a pair of long, many-windowed wings were spread. As if all that were not enough, there were also a collection of one-story outbuildings surrounding the main house that could have been garages, stables, servants' quarters or almost anything.

Studying the place from her vantage point atop a nearby hill, Kim couldn't decide if it was a privately owned mansion or some kind of country club. What was obvious though was that something was going on. Aside from the outdoor lamps, the house itself was all lit up and several of its doors stood open as if for some sort of garden party. A small fleet of cars was parked on both sides of the only paved drive leading out of the place, but these vehicles only deepened the mystery because they were such a mismatched collection. There were BMW s, Rolls-Royces and sleek, Italian sports cars - the very sort of cars Kim expected to see in such affluent surroundings - but there were also mini-vans, beat-up compact cars and even a handful of motorcycles.

As for the party-goers themselves, they were a little bit harder to find. A few seemed to be milling about the main house, but most were out in the grounds, moving singly and or in small groups out towards the woods. What made them so hard to pick out of the deepening darkness was that each was dressed in a full-length, hooded cloak of black or some other dark colour

Some kind of cult. The thought sprang on Kim at that moment, followed immediately by a rhythmic pounding she soon realized was her own heartbeat. She would have recognized it at once, but it usually didn't beat quite so fast. Some kind of cult. Her suddenly racing mind tried to sort out exactly what that meant and failed. There was only a jumbled impression of weird rituals and human sacrifices. That and a tiny voice in the back of her head that was screaming for her to run.

As strange and as unnerving as their apparel was, there was something even odder about these people.

Hula hoops.

Kim had to stare long and hard at the nearest group of cloaked figures to be sure of what she was seeing. They were carrying hula hoops. The hula hoop, the simple, plastic toy that had enjoyed on and off popularity for decades. They all carried three or four of the giant, plastic rings in their hands, or had them slung over their shoulders.

Before their concealed watcher could even begin to imagine what it all meant, a shrill shriek cut through the otherwise subdued calm of the place. Most of the caped, hula hoop-carrying cultists turned in its direction, but held their ground.

From behind one of the outbuildings their appeared a young woman, running at full speed. She was dressed as any co-ed might for a workout routine: tennis shoes, jogging shorts and a tight-fitting halter top. She ran straight for the woods on the far side of the house, daring only once to look back over her shoulder. The sight of the four cloaked figures that were chasing her urged her to sprint even faster. Soon the girl and her pursuers had disappeared into the shadowy forest, leaving the rest of the hooded people to return to their previous endeavours.

Every instinct Kim possessed was telling her that she had to get out of there, but she couldn't tear herself away. She had to see more, had to know what was going on. If she were careful, she could work her way around the perimeter of the grounds to where the running girl had gone. Then she could...

But she never had a chance to put her plan into action. All curiosity was forgotten in an instant when she heard something behind her. It was a barely perceptible sound, little more than the noise made by a soft-soled shoe pushing down a not yet brittle leaf, but it was enough to warn the trespasser.

Kim just had time enough to slip behind a thick-trunked oak tree before the two cloaked figures came into sight. They moved quietly, each holding a hula hoop at the ready as if it were a weapon. It was a man and a woman, as far as their unseen observer could tell, though their cowls and the lack of light made it impossible to see much of their faces. Slowly they made their way through the woods, eyes scanning the darkness around them, heads cocked as if listening intently.

They were searching.

Hunting.

They must have suspected that someone was nearby. Not more than twenty feet from where Kim had concealed herself, they stopped to exchange a few whispered words. The woman produced a flash light from beneath her cape and trained its beam on the ground around their feet. Kim shifted her own feet slightly and felt the mud that clung to her sneakers. The ground had been soft as she approached the edge of the woods...

...soft enough for her to have left footprints.

The beam of the flash light swung up and played across the area where she hid. Ducking down in a crouch behind the oak, Kim made herself as small as she could. There was nowhere else to hide. If she ran to the left or right, they would see her for certain. The only other way was to go directly away from them, but if she did, the cornered intruder would soon find herself out in the open and heading toward the more brightly lit areas around the house.

The hunters drew closer. Soon they would be on either side of the tree.



© Eric Essex
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.