A Boy Named Alice

Chapter Eight

I broke through dense forest to muggy air and swampy ground. A slow moving river divided the land, and the rest of the clearing disappeared into the distance. Moonlight created whitecaps in the current, stars reflected between the waves, and the misty rain disappeared with the forest. I couldn't see the other side of the clearing.

The tips of my fingers tingled, life returning once the frost began to leave. All around me marshy fields were dotted with tall mossy pines. Wide tapered roots shot strait into the ground, a sturdy base for the swamp dwelling giants.

A pier similar to the one at my grandparent's house jutted out into the river. Cracks left black, jagged lines in the gray weathered wood. An empty rowboat rocked in the water, and a moldy rope tied around one post kept it from floating away. Green algae gathered around the posts and crawled up one side of the boat. The area still held a hint of decay, the grass short and brown. Mud oozed around my shoes and tried to suck them down into the earth.

Rotten plants mixed with old water, the foul scent clinging to the river despite the steady current. My reflection stared back pale and dirty. Mud smeared one cheek, and twigs and leaves were scattered through my hair. Moonlight bleached the color from my sink and a gray mist glided through the water like smoke.

The shape was human, the expression blank, the eyes hollowed. More followed, their mouths open, moving but silent, and others simply slack.

One opened its eyes, staring right at me. A hand lifted from the water, a translucent cloud barely holding its shape. I scuttled back, the tips of the frail fingers just missing me. The current carried it out of sight.

Crossing the river was a no go, it was moving too fast, and I had no idea what those things would do if they touched me.

Following it was the better choice. Dad used to say it was a good way to find people if I got lost.

It was harder to walk, the ground uneven, and I stumbled on small mounds. Mud stuck tight to my shoes, each sloshing step a blaring signal telling the monsters how to find me.

The river curved towards the left and a wide gravel path emerged from behind dangling moss. It snaked off into the distance, leaving the river behind.

I bit my lip and headed to the path. Pushing aside branches and moss, I stopped at the edge. Packed bits of rock created a wide flat surface. Clean lines separated the path from the swamp, the grass at the boundary trimmed as if done by machine.

I balled up my fist. It could lead me back to the woods, or disappear into another section, taking me further away from my goal. I didn't know the Dead Woods' secrets yet. I was just scraping the surface and could barely see through the mirage.

I glanced at the river behind me. The choice was the same.

Nails digging into my palms, I stepped onto the path. Nothing changed. The river continued to flow along behind me. The world didn't shift when I started walking. My fingers uncurled.

Tree limbs dangled over, skeletal fingers trailing through mossy hair. Sweat broke out on my brow, along my lip, and dripped down my back. The wet air kept my clothes damp, leaving behind a musty heat. I stopped and stripped off my jackets, stuffing them into my backpack. It helped some, but it made the backpack heavier, and it rested like a sack of bricks against my back.

The river peeked through the giants, a burbling companion off to my right. The road turned into a lazy bend, heading right, the large moon overhead breaking through the crawling shadows.

Up ahead, the path split into two parts. One part ran towards the river, the left leading towards a large structure, just rising over the horizon.