The Dryad's Kiss Read online

  As I thought about my friends, Mark looked around. “Speaking of Ricky, where is that girl? We passed her jeep.”

  He passed us a couple of penlights, and we went to search for her.

  “Ricky!” We called out her name as we wandered around.

  Of course, after just hearing ghost stories, having someone disappear actually became a little worrisome. I just couldn’t help wondering. No reply answered our calls except for the bugs.

  A loud wailing moan started near the top of the mound. It was awful. The pain and fear it carried pierced my adrenals, and I jumped and yelped.

  “I heard it, too!” Mark exclaimed, not giving me time to be embarrassed. “Stay put.”

  He stalked toward the mound and started climbing the steep slope towards the deep shadows near the top. He called out tentatively and swept the area with his blue flashlight beam. “Ricky?”

  Still no answer, but I heard a noise like something moving through the thick underbrush, maybe twenty feet in front of us followed by another wail. The sound came from the same direction as before.

  I yelled, “Ricky?”

  Uncle Mark shot a quick glance back at me. “Hang on, Finn. I think I see something. I’m going to go check it out.”

  Spooked, I looked back to my dad for reassurance. He had fallen behind, and I couldn’t see his face past his flashlight beam.

  “Dad?”

  I never got to say anything else, because an even more bloodcurdling scream erupted behind me on the mound. I spun around with a yell, and jammed my flashlight at the brush with both hands, as if it were a gun. A much higher pitched scream followed the first. My cry quickly joined in.

  “Uncle Mark!”

  A ghostly white figure stood up from the bushes near the top of the mound. It had glowing red eyes and a horrendous face. I shrieked, turned, and ran right into my dad. He caught me and wrestled me to a halt while a new cry started behind me.

  My dad tried to say something to me, but I paid no attention. I had no room for anything other than getting past him and out of there. When things started to penetrate my panic again, I discovered that the screaming behind me had turned into laughter. I looked up to my dad’s smiling face and knew I’d been had. My face flamed red. A couple of shadowy figures rose from the underbrush behind me. Uncle Mark laughter drifted down to me accompanied by another, more feminine laugh.

  “You assholes!” I yelled.

  Of course, the realization that I had just called my uncle an asshole replaced the anger with embarrassment. Then, I saw my dad's grin and realized he must have been in on the joke. I growled at him. “You knew!”

  “Nope, I suspected because I just know your Uncle Mark. He did something very similar to me about twenty-five years ago.”

  “And, you just let him egg me on?”

  From behind me, Uncle Mark crunched back through the bushes, still laughing. “Oh, don’t be sore, kiddo! Just a little fun.”

  I scowled at him. “Yeah, for you, maybe. It would have served you right if I just dropped dead of a heart attack right at your feet.”

  The flash of his teeth in the darkness grew even wider. “Not a chance, me kiddo! You’re young and reasonably fit. I knew you would be fine. And, I knew you would take it with good grace.”

  Now I'd look like a churlish turd if I made a fuss. “Okay,” I growled, anxious to get off the subject of how gullible I could be. “So, you flew us all the way down here just to jump out of a bush at me?”

  “No, Finn, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Here, let me introduce you to Ricky, our monster extraordinaire.”

  At his introduction, a young woman of average size and dark-something hair came into our circle of LED light with a big smile. She held her hand out to me and said in a conciliatory manner, “Hi, Finn, sorry about that. It was just a little jest.”

  Not wanting to appear uncool, I accepted her handshake. For some reason, the culprit being a girl bothered me more than if it had been a man. I squeezed a little harder than necessary, but Ricky didn’t seem to notice. She released my hand and extended it beyond me to shake hands with my dad.

  “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

  “Same here.”

  Mark said, “All joking aside, guys. Dan truly refuses to return here. He got pretty spooked.” He turned to the young woman. “How about you?”

  Ricky shook her head. “Nope, nothing, though if you hadn’t called my phone, you’d have come across me sleeping when you got here. I had to scramble a bit to get in place.” She lifted up a floppy latex mask with two glowing LED eyes. “How did it look?”

  “Scary as hell,” I admitted.

  “Excellent! Not so much in the daylight.”

  To be honest, it looked fake even in the blue glow of our flashlights.

  Mark turned in the direction of the farmhouse. “The story about the farmer is true, as well. He and the other hands saw something, and they just stopped, unwilling to continue.”

  “Who built it?” asked my dad.

  Ricky shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Our best guess is that it is a Hopewell burial mound. A few others have been found in the area that aren’t as large, and, we’re close to the Chillicothe mounds. I suppose it could also be Adena.”

  I looked at Ricky a little more closely as she talked. She had a regular, mannish, almost handsome face with thin lips and a squarish, solid build. I still couldn’t make out the exact color of her hair. She wore it in a bob and looked a few years older than me. I couldn't decide if she was cute or not.

  My dad eyed the dark mass of the mound a short distance away with his amateur archaeologist’s eye. “I don’t know. The Hopewell mounds are often larger than this. Have you found any artifacts around here?”

  Ricky shook her head. “I haven't, but Mr. Hatzer has a good-sized collection of arrowheads and a couple of axe heads.”

  “Found them while turning the soil, no doubt,” added Uncle Mark.

  My dad and I nodded. A lot of our artifact hunting in Ohio involved walking along freshly plowed fields.

  “So, nothing indicating whether these had Hopewell or Adena origins?” Dad asked.

  Ricky shook her head.

  “Right!” Uncle Mark rubbed his hands together. “Let’s look around a bit.”

  “In the dark?” I asked. “Wouldn’t we find more if we came back tomorrow?”

  He gave me a wicked little smile. “Still afraid, Finn?”

  “No!” I said with a bit too much emphasis. “I just think we will find more during the day.”

  “Well, we’ll come back then, too,” chirped Mark with a twinkle in his eye.

  Bumps In The Night

  So we each started looking around the site, using our flashlights to search the forested mound. All the usual vegetable suspects found in Ohio forests competed for space: lots of leaves in various states of disintegration, ferns, ivies, and other ground cover. I spent a little extra time looking at the ivies. One always had to look out for poison oak and poison ivy in these woods, but nothing explained the anxiousness growing within me. I jumped at every little noise and wanted to leave, but kept at it. If I admitted to how spooked I felt, I’d never hear the end of it from Uncle Mark and my dad.

  I had been circling the base of the mound for about a half hour trying to pinpoint where my intuition wanted to pull me. I'd started to complain to myself that this was a stupid idea. What would he expect to find in the woods in the dark? I got the distinct impression that Mark was punking me again when he told us to split up. My silent grumbling was interrupted when Mommy Nature called. Seeing no lights nearby, I answered her. I stood listening to the pattering sound of my business against the leaves, sighing in relief, when I noticed a large, fallen tree a short way off in front of me. My eyes followed its trunk up the hill. In the darkness of the woods, I could just make out that it had toppled over from near the top of the mound. From the base of the hill, I spotted dark, ragged roots clawing into the air like arthritic finge
rs. Now that was interesting. I finished my business and scrambled up the side of the mound to the mass of roots.

  The tree hadn’t fallen too long ago. Its roots had ripped out of the ground and flailed in the air like a petrified octopus over a gaping hole. I flashed my light into the dark pit, working on the theory that disturbed earth made the most likely place to find artifacts. After seeing nothing there, I played my light over the roots dangling with dirt and mosses. An oddly shaped shadow sitting in the darkest part of the roots caught my eye. I shone my light on it and saw an object embedded amongst the wooden tentacles. Dark and partially obscured by dirt and the roots, it somehow stood out and intrigued me.

  This was the thing I was looking for. Eagerly, I knelt down at the edge of the hole and reached out to grab the object. As I leaned out over the chasm, a cold wind blew in my face from within and a deep rumble moved the ground beneath my knees. Eyes wide, I looked down to see the ground bulging up within the pit. My sphincter tightened, and my stomach flopped as I scrambled back and away from the roots. A dirt-encrusted arm with crooked, searching fingers rose unsteadily from the bottom of the pit. The arm grabbed a root and pulled.

  I froze in fearful fascination as the head and torso of a giant followed the arm out of the ground. Its back was to me.

  As soon as its second arm was free, it reached into the tangled roots, and grasped the dark object that had caught my interest. Its shadowed arm snapped back with it, accompanied by the sound of breaking wood.

  The figure rose up to a fearsome height. Even while standing in the hole, it had at least a foot on me. It turned around to face me. In terror, I thrust the small flashlight at it like a gun. The gesture was just as silly this time.

  The blue-white rays of my little penlight didn’t help a bit. Only the cold moonlight provided any illumination of the form. Where the dirt fell away, it revealed skin colored the blue-white of death. Its paleness emphasized the dirt and shadows still clinging to it.

  I forced my frozen leg a step back as I gawked up at its dark, shrouded face. Though I could not see its eyes, a sharp, cold, shock ran through me as we locked gazes. The menace from that dire attention convinced me my survival relied on breaking out of my paralysis and fleeing. I forced another step back, unable to take my eyes from the horrible form.

  The figure began a mournful, wavering, singsong, chanting: “Nimakwa-kitathaya, nimakwa-kitathaya, nimakwa-kitathaya.” After the third iteration, the being raised his hand, and a ghostly two-toned trilling pierced the night in a complicated, but compelling, rhythm. The trilling soon stopped, but echoes of the sound took on a life of their own. The noise surrounded me, penetrated to my core, and forced its beat upon my heart. I gasped as it wove through me, and the Andre-the-Giant-sized shadow distorted and grew even more.

  It swelled to monstrous proportions; it had to be ten feet tall and at least three or four feet wide. If it made a sound, the fading beat of the whistle overwhelmed it. But, its malice of intent didn't need mere sound to reach my brain. I could feel it all too well. The echo faded to nothing, and I could move again.

  I broke free from the creature’s unseen gaze and ran. In answer, the form crashed down after me. Suddenly, a large, scary, angry bear roared down behind me. I screamed wordlessly as I stumbled through the underbrush and around the trees too large to bowl over. Over my screaming, I heard the beast crashing and roaring behind me, smashing down the trees I had to run around. Instinctively, I headed toward the nearest light. My pursuer galloped faster than me and closed in.

  The light was Ricky’s and she pointed it right at me. I yelled, “Run!”

  The LED light in her hand blinded me. “Finn, what’s wrong?”

  “Run, damn it! It’s right behind me!”

  If she said anything more, I didn’t hear it, because my foot caught on something and I went down ass over teakettle. In cases like this, adrenalin is your best friend. I didn’t feel the impact, but rolled like a stunt man and came up running. At least that was the theory. The reality accomplished the same thing but with substantially less style and more thrashing.

  I risked a glance back, and the massive, dark bulk of the thing was bearing down fast. When I looked forward again, Ricky was right in front of me and blinded me with the flashlight again. I couldn’t see her expression through the dazzle of the light, but I heard her gasp as she saw the thing behind me. Its massive feet pounded the ground. There was no way I could escape, but my momentum was going to carry me past Ricky and leave her right in its path, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I tackled Ricky and came down on top of her, covering her as best I could, while I waited for the bear’s teeth and claws to shred me.

  Instead of claws, a spear of ice pierced me. The cold of death flowed over me, and when its icy claws hit my mind, I knew that I would not survive. In the next heartbeat, everything changed and the cold pulled away from me, leaving my nerves buzzing. A sense of vast age and utter weariness filled me and a fleeting, but powerful, image of myself holding a carved bear, flashed through my mind.

  Then, I was empty, and the heat of the night flooded back into me, before I became aware of Ricky below me. Fire flooded me where her body touched mine. I disentangled myself from her and pulled back in a panic.

  Ricky wasn’t moving. Her eyes didn’t track me, and she didn’t respond to her name. Horrified, I yelled at her and put my hands on her face. As the memory of the cold subsided, the burning heat of her soft skin also faded away

  My uncle joined me a few seconds later, anxiously demanding an explanation. Before I could answer, Ricky shuddered and looked up at both of us. She struggled to sit up. With our help, she jerked into a sitting position, shivered and looked around in wide-eyed fright.

  “It was a bear!” I exclaimed as my dad came to a halt next to us, panting. “It came out of the ground and chased after me. It jumped us. I thought she was seriously hurt.”

  Uncle Mark looked around quickly. “Where did it go?”

  “Uh, I don’t know. I got blinded by Ricky’s flashlight, so I couldn’t see.” After that, I just kept talking, both confused and panicked. “At first, I thought it was a man, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger, and then I ran, and it chased me. I tripped, and I couldn’t let it get Ricky, and I tried to protect her.” As I was babbling, Ricky shivered and leaned into Uncle Mark’s chest as he knelt next to her and held her.

  Mark held her away from himself by her shoulders to meet her gaze. “Ricky, are you alright? Ricky?”

  She shook off her fright and pulled back away from Mark. “It was so cold! It was angry! It didn’t want us here. It wanted me gone or it wanted me dead. I could feel it.”

  “The bear?” said my dad in confusion.

  She looked up at him and pulled farther away from Uncle Mark, visibly collected herself, and then shook her head. “I don’t know if it was a bear, but it looked like Finn was running from a huge, dark shadow. The next thing I knew, he knocked me down, and then it felt like someone poured a bucket of ice water over me. It took my breath away.”

  “Well, I saw it!” I exclaimed. “It rose out of the ground and started chasing me. It was all black, and my light didn’t even shine on it!”

  Suddenly, Uncle Mark started laughing.

  I whipped around to him. “What?”

  He shook his head while he continued to laugh. “Kiddo, you honestly had me going there! Score one for the two of you! I never would have guessed you two were such accomplished actors.” Uncle Mark thought we were punking him back.

  I almost started to object, and then closed my mouth and reconsidered. I wasn’t sure I wanted him or my dad believing me. If they thought I was seeing ghost bears, they might think something was wrong with me. I decided not to go there.

  I summoned up a wan smile and said, “Yep, we got you all right. Score one for us.” I didn’t sound sincere even to my own ears, but Uncle Mark didn’t notice. He wasn’t a big one for empathy.

  Mark peered down at Ricky. “Whi
ch one of you came up with this?”

  She turned and gazed at me with big, serious eyes and compressed lips.

  “Uh, that would be me, Uncle Mark.” I turned to my dad, who stood watching without comment. His gaze searched my face for answers

  “Did he really?” Mark asked Ricky.

  She nodded without taking her eyes from me and said in a small voice, “Yes, it was Finn.”

  I mentally breathed a sigh of relief. That could have been awkward. My uncle laughed again, stood, and offered a hand to Ricky. She took it and hopped to her feet.

  I got to my feet as well and tried to keep the exhaustion out of my voice. “That about did me in; can we go now and find someplace to sleep?”

  Uncle Mark smiled and nodded. “Sure, me kiddo. Let’s get back here tomorrow with a bulldozer and dig this place up.”

  I grinned back, almost sure he was joking.

  The four of us walked back to the car. The two men walked ahead of us, chatting away about old tricks and punks—mostly perpetrated by Uncle Mark on my dad—while Ricky and I trailed behind.

  I asked as quietly as I could, “Are you okay?” Hesitantly, she nodded. We didn’t say anything more until we reached the cars. Once there, I put my finger on something that was still bothering me.

  The thing I saw had been visible in the moonlight, but the moon hadn’t yet risen. I tried to shake off the chill the thought caused. Ricky wasn’t quite so spooked because, when she saw the truck we arrived in, she laughed.

  When she had everyone's attention, she explained, “I’d forgotten that Dan gave you that old death trap.”

  Mark shook his head but grinned. “He must still be sore about Poughkeepsie.”

  I gave him my best blank look.

  “I’ll explain later.”

  Ricky chimed in, “I’ll take Finn in the jeep. We're all staying at the Comfort Inn in Seaman, so we'll just meet you there.”