In The Sight of These Hills (Dolan Twins)

Mossy Shadows

Chapter 33: Mossy Shadows

"Today is a day like any other: twenty-four hours, a
little sunshine, a little rain.

Listen, says ambition, nervously shifting her weight from
one boot to another -- why don't you get going?

For there I am, in the mossy shadows, under the trees.

And to tell the truth I don't want to let go of the wrists
of idleness, I don't want to sell my life for money,

I don't even want to come in out of the rain."

-From Mary Oliver's "Black Oaks"

There it was again.

Ethan pulled back the thick blankets from his awakened form.

Scrattttch.

He turned his body around to look at the guest room's wall, eyes blinking in the darkness.

Scratttch.

What the hell?

He got up slowly and then he thought he saw of flash of something just outside the window, something like a shadow. It was coming from the backyard.

Scratttch.

He leaned over and snatched his phone quickly up off the floor and then grabbed the switchblade out that had been lying on top of the moved computer desk. He felt the hilt of the blade in his hand, cool and slick, and made sure it was closed. He threw on his Vans as he ran his hand through his hair.

Scratttch.

He stepped out of the room and paused for a moment, his eyes adjusting in the darkness, and then moved quickly to the living room closet to pull out his thick winter coat, a heavy black beanie that he shoved on his head, and a tightly woven scarf. He pulled the thick, gray gloves onto both of his hands, the material bulging slightly where he had the bandage on and looked at the living room. He felt warm as he clenched the blade in his palm and made his way to the back door. He flicked on the porch light so he could see and it came alive with the light orangish glow.

He opened it slowly, carefully, as to make sure Sean wouldn't hear. It made a small creakkkk as he opened the screen door and he made sure the door was locked before he stepped outside, closing it softly behind him. The cold nipped at him, but he felt warm. His eyes focused.

He stepped over one of Grayson's baseball bats that was laying on the gray concrete of the back porch and then down the steps until his feet felt the softness of the dried, dead leaves under him. There was no fence to the backyard so there was a clear shot of the woods behind the house that diverged to the main forest. Ethan's breath was like smoke in the air, his cheeks turning a lush pink as he took step after step, looking all the way around.

There was nothing. He slipped the blade back into his coat pocket.

He looked out at the barren, twisted trees of the forest. Then, he felt something.

He felt something right at the back of his neck, like a slight breathing. No, someone.

He went stiff and then spun around. His hazel eyes met a pair of bright yellow ones that was a mere inch away from his face. Grayson: filthy, clawed hands, sharp canines.

He looked a hard step back and nearly fell in surprise. He regained his balance and Gray seemed to cock his head to the side, watching him.