Tina Yeager's Blog, page 7

Lethean Shroud

 

Steam and smoke slithered around the cauldron and hissed over the hearth. Reeve hooked his poker into the lid and removed it. He ladled marshy chunks into a pie tin. When he handed it to her with a flick of his wrist, its stiff lumps remained mudded to the center of the tin. Yellowish skin peeked through the ooze. A pungent, earthy odor rose to assault her along with thick greasiness, bitter scents of overcooked greens, and something like burnt hair. Her lips withered. She pressed  them between her teeth to hide the grimace.

“Thought you was hungry.” Reeve sat on the hearth and glared at her over the heap on his plate.

As her sour gut backflipped, she forced a smile.  “Oh, yes. I am.”

“Then you best eat up.” He stabbed his fork toward her pie tin.

She stirred hunks of stringy flesh and wilted vegetation. Bile clawed its way up her throat and attacked the back of her tongue. She swallowed. “What if I have food allergies and I don’t remember?”

Mossy bits clung to his sneer. “Then we’ll find out soon enough.” His expression flattened as he shoveled up another bite. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

Rayanna held her breath as she raised a bite. She decided not to chew it. The pasty sinews clung to the surfaces in her mouth. She swallowed, fighting against her resistant gullet to force the first bite down.

A glimpse of fur caught her eye. A dog? She flicked her attention to the floor. No such luck. Instead of a dog to help rid her of this stew, it was the rug she’d tripped onto when she entered the shack. Over five feet wide and nearly twice as long, its onyx hairs glistened in the firelight. The skinned beast’s head and paws stuck out from the edges, but didn’t help identify the creature. With feet larger than human hands and a set of menacing jaws, it looked like something from a roadside monster museum.

“Was that some kind of bear?”

He smacked his lips, food lolling around his reply. “Nope.”

“I assume you hunted it yourself. Big for a timber wolf, isn’t it?” She thinned her meal across the surface of her plate.

“I did. And that ain’t no timber wolf.”

She forced another bite down. “What is it, then?”

Instead of answering, he scraped all the sludge from his plate and sucked his fork clean. “That there’s a story to prickle the hairs on a dead man’s arms.” He clattered his plate onto the stone surface beside him. “And it’s what we need to talk about.”

 

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

The post Lethean Shroud appeared first on Tyeagerwrites.

Lethean Shroud

Silence compressed a million racing thoughts into each moment, until the shack’s limited air space became too dense to breathe.

“So…”Rayanna shifted in her chair. She pointed at a stack of newspapers next to Reeve’s feet.  “Do you get that delivered from the local press?”

“This henhouse liner, here?” He snatched the top sheet and crumpled it. “Wouldn’t pay a spit fingernail for “em to deliver this. Nobody’d cart it all this way if I did.”

“Not a fan of the editor, I guess.” She forced a weak smile, but her lips wilted mid-attempt.

“I never said any such thing.” He crammed the wads into the fireplace. “Stu’s decent folk. Just can’t print a useful word to save his life or anybody else’s.”

As he toggled a lever inside the flue, a draft breathed chills through the room and swept them across Rayanna’s raw arms. She shivered, but could not hug herself without intensifying the pain of her burns. On the front wall, dried herbs hung above shelves cluttered with dusty mason jars and corked bottles. One of the amber or green suspensions might hold some kind of burn ointment, but she didn’t request his help.

She wiped her dewy palms onto the tops of her thighs. “If I can’t make it to town tonight, then what … happens now?”

“Said you don’t want to impose, didn’tcha?” He struck a long match against the hearth stones. Pointing the flame at her, he said, “Reckon we ought to see if you can make yourself useful.”

She stood. “Meaning what?”

Cackling, he set the kindling ablaze. Reeve layered branches onto the furious spray of embers. “Depends on what you’re up for.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You hungry, Anna?” He stabbed the firewood into place.

As if on cue, her gut volleyed several growls through her core. “I could eat.”

“You one of them vegan-types?” He stood clenching a glowing poker. “Or are you more of a carnivore?”

“I’m not a vegetarian.”

“Hmm. A meat-hungry creature.” As he took a step toward her, a glint flashed over his irises.

Rayanna recoiled, but the shine vanished as if it had never been there. Just a reflection of firelight.

He aimed the firebrand at a lidded iron cauldron. “Then you can fetch me that stew pot.”

She shuffled to the corner and heaved the crock by its bail handle. The skin stretched painfully tight on her arms. Must weigh fifty pounds. She stifled the groans under her breath.   Gritting her teeth, she toted the minerally-smelling meal to the hearth. An ochre, briny fluid sloshed out from beneath the lid onto her leg.

Reeve took the cauldron from her without the slightest hint of labored breath. As if it were aluminum, rather than iron. He fixed it in place over the fire, then gestured to her pant leg. “You’ll want to clean that off before leavin out of here.”

She stepped back from the increasing heat of the flames. “Oh?”

“With the raw meat in it, ‘n all.”

Despite attempts to steady her voice, she stammered. “W-what kind of meat is it?”

He dusted his hands and walked past her. “That’s a question best left unasked.”

 

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

The post Lethean Shroud appeared first on Tyeagerwrites.

Lethean Shroud

Bristly appendages stretched up over the table’s edge in front of her. A spider emerged with them and Rayanna gasped.

It skittered past the lantern and traced her host’s forearm, resting on the table’s surface. The man didn’t flinch. “You got nerves strung higher’n cat gut on a fiddle. But are those a victim’s jitters, or are you jumpy ’cause you’re lyin’?”

“Or maybe I don’t like spiders as much as you do.” She offered a shaky chuckle. “I mean, do I look like some kind of … murderer?”

The stranger narrowed his eyes and hesitated for an uncomfortably long moment. “Things ain’t always what they seem. Most especially out here in these parts.”

She bit her lip and the sting alerted her she’d been chewing it unconsciously. The iron hint of blood grazed the taste buds on the tip of her tongue. “Oof. I uh, don’t know what else I could say to–”

“Nothing.” He huffed. “What you say means less than the brush of spider’s hair. Won’t know what you are until I see whether or not you got fangs, will I?”

She coughed on the acerbic trickle of blood at the top of her throat. “I’m sorry, did you say fangs? Is that some kind of joke?”

He raised his chin. “Do I look like some kind of comedian?”

She stiffened and responded with a quick shake of her head.

The stranger emitted a wet, throaty caw. “Ha!” One corner of his lips twisted upward as he poked a finger in her direction. “Now that, was a joke.”

“Oh.” She forced a weak smile. “Not what you seem.”

“You sure as fire don’t come from ’round here, so it’s good you catch on quick enough.” He sniffed. “Suppose it won’t do no harm nor good for you to have something to call me by. It’s Reeve.”

“Mister Reeve, or–”

“Just Reeve.”

“So, can you tell me where we are?”

“My cabin.” The chair legs squawked against the floorboards as he stood. He picked up his rifle near the trigger. “Best not make any cracks about the surroundings.”

“Of course not. Seems hand crafted.” She scanned the windowless log walls. Webs billowed at the ceiling near the wood stove. “But I was asking about the area around here.”

He loped across the room. “That’s more complicated question than you’d figure.”

“Is there a town nearby?”

As he leaned the gun against the wall, he hesitated and whipped a glare at her. “Why do you ask?”

“I seem to be an imposition here, but I’ll need someplace to stay until I can find a way home.” She shrugged. “Wherever that is.”

“Town’s a long way off.” Squaring his shoulders, he faced her. “And there’s no hope of you gettin’ there tonight.”

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

 

 

The post Lethean Shroud appeared first on Tyeagerwrites.

Lethean Shroud

 

Rayanna leaned back from the table as the grisled stranger settled across from her. The lantern and rifle took up more than half of the meager space between them. As she pressed herself as far away as she could, the chair’s gnarled branch spindles knuckled into her back.

As he stretched out his hand, she flinched.

“Jumpy, ain’t ya?” He completed his gesture to indicate her tattered sleeves. “An accident, or so you said. How ’bout you tell me the whole story. What sort of business you got in this area?”

A trickle slithered down her back, tracing her spine. How can I explain what I do remember, especially when there’s so much I don’t? “Why don’t you tell me your name?”

“You give me your story, and mebbe I’ll tell you who I am.” He lifted the rifle and cradled its stock in his calloused grip. “The whole truth, mind you. I won’t stand for any lies here.”

“Well, uh, you see, it’s hard to do that.” She dropped her quaking hands to her lap, and twisted them together under the table. “I don’t know how much I can really tell you.”

He stiffened, the wrinkles deepening in the scowl which seemed permanently etched onto his face. “And why’s that?”

She aimed her gaze directly into his gray eyes. “Because I don’t remember anything before the accident.”

“Amnesia’s a pret-durn convenient excuse to keep from telling me what you’re doing out here.”

She raised a trembling hand to the crusty wound on her head. “No, really. I hit my head and woke up out here in the woods. It was cold, so I made a campfire. Must’ve dozed off from the head injury, and then …” Rayanna raised her forearms to the table and glanced across them. “The fire woke me back up with a very nasty set of burns.”

“Hmm.” He squinted, peering over the injuries on her head and arms. “So where abouts was your campsite? We can get your identification from there.”

“I don’t know.”

“Whaddya mean you don’t know?”

She shrugged and sighed. “I don’t know for sure I WAS camping. I just figure that’s the only reason to be in a forest. Wish I did have something to tell me who I am and where I came from.”

“So, are you a liar or are you really named Anna?”

“It seemed like it could be my name. But I can’t really remember anything for certain before the–”

“The accident. So you keep saying.” He raised a brow.

The lantern flickered, its battery light appearing to writhe almost like a flame between them. She’d told him part-truths, but they’d have to be enough. How could she mention waking in the other sorts of accidents, spattered in the blood of missing victims? Or the massive, dark beast which ran the police car off the road?

The stranger scanned her head to toe. “Now, I guess I’ll have to decide if you’re a liar … or a victim.”

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

 

The post Lethean Shroud appeared first on Tyeagerwrites.

Lethean Shroud

Rayanna recoiled from the gnarled stranger in the door way. Her fingers sank into coarse, thick fur as she crawled backward. At the groan of a floorboard, she froze.

Narrowing his eyes, he clomped forth and extended the lantern. “You afraid of me?”

Lips quivering, she searched the crooked furrows of his grimace for the correct answer and found no clues. “I-I’m sorry to bother you.” She scrambled to her feet. “I shouldn’t have come.” Keeping her distance, she hedged sideways and eyed the exit.

“That depends on why you’ve come, now don’t it?” He set the lantern on a rough hewn table.

“I had a campfire accident.” Sidling a few steps toward the only door, she held out her burned arms with their charred sleeves rustling around them.

He jerked a bark-crusted chair aside. With the rifle, he gestured from her to the tableside seating. “Have a seat … Anna.” He emphasized the name she’d given him, dragging it out.

He couldn’t possibly know I made up that name. For all she knew, maybe her real name, or at least her nickname was Anna.

She trudged toward the table, flicking a glance at the door. Her boot stumbled over the clawed edge of the massive fur carpeting the floor. Its dense black hide spread out to the size of a Kodiak, but its paws knuckled in an odd, un-bearlike shape.

Rayanna laid a hand on the opposite chair, keeping the small table between her and the stranger.

He barked, “Did your accident burn a hole in your backside, too?”

“Huh?” She drew back, flashed a quick scan at her back jeans pockets. “Uh, no.”

He baton-tapped the gun barrel onto her edge of the table. “Then sit.”

Scanning the room, she settled onto the straw-woven seat. The sparse shack offered little other furniture. A hide-draped rocker faced the stone hearth. Mongrel-like quilts of pelts and rags covered a makeshift cot in the corner. A motel room could have swallowed the entire cabin. The windowless log walls shrank the feel of its space even more.

“Now, we’ll have us a little talk.” As he clutched his rifle with both hands and sat opposite her, his whiskered lips twisted into an uneven grin. “Now that we’re good and locked in.”

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

The post Lethean Shroud appeared first on Tyeagerwrites.

Lethean Shroud

The dank air clamped its chilling grip onto Rayanna’s raw arms. She cast furtive glances into the rustling forest. And at him. He maintained a lead of no more than ten feet, every step of his boot hitting the earth with sure footing. Her own soles slid on the undulating, narrow path.

The man paused and only twisted his chin halfway to his shoulder, not looking directly back at her. With a gruff command, he adusted his grip on the rifle at his side. “Keep up.”

She parted her lips, but could not think of anything to reply before he trekked onward. She hustled to follow.

But what am I hurrying toward?

His finger itched near the trigger as he hiked.

“You asked my name, but who are–”

“Shht!” He hissed.

“I feel like I should know–”

The whiskered stranger whipped his head to glower at her. The lantern beside his face cast eerie hollows around his clouded-gray glare. His leathery, grizzled features contorted into a fierce scowl. “Do you want to die?”

She bit her lips together and shook her head.

With a huff, he resumed his stomp toward an end she couldn’t guess. His shoulders hunched a bit, as if from ages of hunkering onto the mountainside.

A chorus of howls swept through the forest. The gray-brown path of rock and earth and dead leaves zoomed in and out of her view, as if the planet shuddered at her presence. The stranger quickened his pace. She stumbled after him, her head swimming from fatigue. And terror.

The lantern floated beyond a screen of brush and disappeared. Her ears clogged with throb of her pulse. Surrounding noise muffled, as if she were sinking into a watery abyss. A knock resounded in the distance ahead. The sound repeated–not a knock. Clomping footfalls.

Then a flash pierced the night. And another shot cracked the forest air.

She hurtled herself through a screen of bristly limbs. Needles and twigs clawed at her burn wounds. She winced aloud, despite the man’s threat. Her next step caught on a stone. She tripped headlong onto a set of weatherbeaten steps.

A calloused grip seized her by the arm and jerked her onto the stoop. She groaned at the pain. Weak moonlight offered a dim view of the figure holding his gun, but not the lantern. He shuffled with her across the creaky floorboards of a porch. Rayanna looked desperately back toward the trees, huddled within spitting distance of the shack. The door gave a shuddering moan as he opened it. The man shoved her into the center of an inky void. She fell onto a soft, hairy surface. A slam shook the floor beneath her hip. Then a clack and thump resounded.

“Now we’re all locked in.” The lantern’s glow reappeared beneath the stranger’s chin. Green light and shadow flickered into the canyons of his errant features. “Whether you wanted to die or not.”

 

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

The post Lethean Shroud appeared first on Tyeagerwrites.

Lethean Shroud

Rayanna stiffened. Her breath froze.

The lantern swung from the approaching stranger’s outstretched hand, his face still obscured by the misty darkness. “I get a name or my Colt. Right. Now.”

Her lips fumbled. A gun barrel gleamed in the sickly green light. She stammered, “I-I’m lost. I-”

“Name.” A howl rose beyond him and paws thudded toward them.

She muttered, “Is that an–?”

A thunderous crack erupted from the circle of light. A bullet whizzed past her arm. Just behind her, leaves burst from the shot’s impact on a clump of brush.

“Speak up quick.”

“I said, ‘Anna.'” Her chest pounded and heaved.

He shambled nearer, and she glimpsed a leathery, pale face stubbled with salty whiskers. But he then thrust the light so close she had to squint away. The sinewy old man gripped a massive handgun in his mit-sized hand and aimed it over each of her shoulders. “Hmm.” He darted his gaze between her face and the forest behind her. “Anna, you say?”

She jerked her chin in a slight nod. “Yesssir.”

“Sir?” He narrowed his eyes. After a moment’s glare, a wet, coughing sort of chuckle burst from his lips. “You are in a sorry state.” With the gun still aimed in her direction, he beckoned her with it and backed away.

Rayanna cleared her throat and sidled toward the far edge of the path. “I apologize if I trespassed. I’ll just be on my way.”

“No, you won’t neither.” He held the lamp even with his chapped lips and the wavering light accentuated the unnevenness of his teeth. “You’ll come with me if you want to live through the night. Anna.”

Rustling stirred, somewhere in the distance to her left. She cast a furtive glance from the wild darkness to the gun barrel. Rayanna swallowed the knot twisting in her throat. And followed the sinewy figure into the trees.

 

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

The post Lethean Shroud appeared first on Tyeagerwrites.

Lethean Shroud

Smoke writhed at the edges of the flames on her makeshift torch. Coiling and uncoiling, the wisps spirited their way upward in errant directions. Rayanna blinked away the ghoulish tendrils stinging her eyes.

On the half-decayed carpet of oak leaves, her damp boots skidded downhill a few steps . The outer edge of her foot found traction against a cypress knee. At least following the river had some benefit.

Hopefully, the current would also lead her to town.

She grimaced at the chafe of her blouse’s charred edges across the wounds on her arms. No amount of adjusting the sleeve kept it from slipping back onto the burns after a few steps. With a huff, she gave up. The chilling breeze stung her raw skin, anyway.

Downslope from her path, the creek gurgled in wet laughter toward a destination it alone knew. From someplace known, not forgotten. The water ventured from some distance source beyond the tangled thickets. Perhaps it had come from some snow-capped summit. At least its past and future could be seen.

Unlike hers.

She sighed up at the inky, spangled dome peeking through the canopy. Even if she made it to town, what then? Who would take in a charred, filthy stranger with no identity?

They could never tell whether this woman might be a murderer. She couldn’t be sure of that herself.

Cracking brush snapped her out of her thoughts. A green-blue beam flashed in her direction from a stone’s throw distance ahead.

Footsteps preceded a weathered voice. “Who’s there?”

 

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

The post Lethean Shroud appeared first on Tyeagerwrites.

Lethean Shroud

The shifting breeze swept occasional drafts of smoke into Rayanna’s eyes. She squinted against the soot, but did not back away. With her bent legs hugged to her chest, she propped her chin on her knees and stared across the flame tips into the imperceptible wilds of the dark forest. The campfire’s crackle mimicked the snap of twigs in the forest, and she could no longer tell the sounds apart.

The firelight blurred into a haze under drooping lashes. Her chin slid off its perch on her knees.

She shook her head. Must stay alert. To watch for the beast lurking somewhere in the night.

But warmth crept up her limbs, caressed her cheeks, and blanketed her in drowsiness. The ebb of adrenaline dragged her into a mire of black. Howls rose at her back. Heavy paws thudded in pursuit, hounding her. She fled blindly. Thin branches whipped at her arm. Thorns bit her skin. Prickles raced up her limbs as a branch cracked all too close. Just as she turned, the hulking beast pounced. In so little light, she could only see a massive, bear-sized form as it tackled her to the earth. Claws stabbed her arms. Open jaws roared into her face with acrid, hot breath. Too hot.

She coughed, gagged. Her eyes fluttered in thickening smoke. Intense pain shot up her arms. Flames climbed her sleeves.

I’m on fire!

Amid hoarse screams, she flailed on the dirt. Ripped the blouse from her body. Stomped out the fire. Cursed.

Smoldering and tattered, her shirt lay crumpled at her feet. A couple of yards away, the fire hissed. One ember-blazoned branch extended from the edge, where it had likely toppled to cause her rude awakening from sleep. A brisk wind grazed her dewy, bare skin into gooseflesh. With a scowl she pinched the collar and lifted the partially charred remains.

Her. Only. Shirt.

She’d either head into town shivering in her bra, or she’d have to make do with this somehow.

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

 

 

 

The post Lethean Shroud appeared first on Tyeagerwrites.

Lethean Shroud

The night breeze sighed as it pursued Rayanna like a specter through the dark forest. Its breath needled through her damp blouse and prickled her skin. She hugged her arms and rubbed the stubborn chills.

But, more than the misty air triggered her shivers. She whipped her head in the direction of each snapped twig. Cringed at the echo of her own footsteps.

Teeth chattering, she glanced back at the thick foliage blocking her view of the stream. How far had she ventured from the water? The road must be several miles away.

Far enough to risk a fire. At least, it has to be. 

She snatched up every dry branch she could find, while casting wary gazes into the trees. The fire might serve a purpose more life saving than warmth.

Her sodden boots slipped easily on the mossy slope, so she wedged her steps against tree roots and sedge clumps. A boulder formation loomed ahead. As she neared the overgrown ledge, her arms ached under the awkward load of firewood.

She dumped the sticks and branches at the shallow cave’s edge and winced at the clatter. Now, to make a spark. Kneeling beside the pile, she gathered the kindling. It took several minutes to strike a glow, but she soon breathed the fire to life.

As she coaxed the flames to light the pile of dead wood, smoke curled out to clash with the forest fog. Fiery tongues rose to consume the offcast limbs and embrace her with warmth. Rayanna sat with the boulder walls at her back. She hugged her knees and the reflection of flames danced on her arms.

The dark, tangled brush lay silent beyond the crackle of light. As embers floated to hiss at the damp breeze, strange thoughts crept into Rayanna’s mind.

All this way, I’ve shivered in terror over the beast which might lurk in the shadows. What if the greatest thing to fear in this forest is … me?

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

 

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