The Thicket

by Noelle W. Ihli

Norah doesn’t ask why. Because the look in the woman’s eyes tells her to cling to these last few minutes of not knowing like a life raft.

But that feeling of staring into the dark and wondering if there’s danger lurking there, even just a little danger, will never get old. It’s the whole point of Halloween.

And if it’s awful, fine. Nobody is punishing her for what she did. So she’ll punish herself.

Now that they’re past the security station and the ruddy-faced, sour-breathed guard, Taylor feels the alcohol warm her all the way down to her toes.

It’s fascinating, that denial. It stays until the very end for most people. If they don’t fight, they freeze. And if they don’t shut down, they hold onto hope. Always so much hope. Even bound hand and foot on a sheet of plastic in a dark building, by a stranger wearing a mask.