You need to know

A Story by

Apart from a car’s headlights, there is nothing so comforting as a road atlas spread open on the seat beside you when you’re heading to a place that you’ve never been, to meet someone you’ve never met, for a reason you don’t know.

Carl sat hunched over the steering wheel, his eyes constantly flickering across the cold fingers of full beams as they pressed back the night and the smirking forest. He had lost the signal for his favourite radio station several miles back and since then had only managed to tune in to static. He tried singing then whistling, anything to break up the constant drone of the car engine and keep his mind from worrying about the journey or, more precisely, the point of it. Each time though, he caught himself chewing at his lip, silent. Each start of a tune reaching a rapid, unnoticed conclusion. He gave up and forced himself to concentrate on the driving, the curves in the narrow road, the jig-saw puzzle of hungry trees and the pale eyes that peered out from between the skirts of undergrowth.

He felt the jolt of the car as he came awake. Eyes? He had dozed off. He knew it wasn’t because he was tired. It had to be the pure monotony of the drive. He opened the window and breathed deeply. The freezing air hit the back of his lungs like a blow from a baseball bat. He choked then started to cough. The lights spun before him and he braked to a stop. He climbed clumsily from the car, doubled over as the wracking pain brought him fully awake. He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, breathing slowly, carefully. He thought suddenly that this was the only sound. He reached through the window, turned the ignition off and held his breath. Nothing. Not even the whisper of a treetop pursing its lips for the wind to brush. And the darkness was absolute. He lifted his hand. He had never believed the old saying about not being able to see your hand in front of your face. Now he realized it was true. Utter darkness.

Carl shivered, climbed back in the car and keyed the ignition. For a second the thought of some horror story crossed his mind, where the car wouldn’t start and he would be stranded, forced to walk, a plaything of inhuman forces. But the engine kicked in, purring like a cat, welcoming its master home.

The voice on the telephone had been quiet. A place, a time and a cryptic statement. “It’s about your family. You need to know.”

Carl had stepped into the living-room. His wife, Annabel, was dozing in front of the television. The two boys were playing some incomprehensible game with collectible cards. As any true father, he would never let anything disturb or hurt them. Carl would have laughed but there had been some undertone, some dark urgency about the caller’s voice. Some itch that had urged him to scratch, to go to the rendezvous.

And here on the road there was a horrifying ugly tree, its stump a mass of teeth, charging at him.

Carl felt the pain of his hands gripping suddenly at the wheel; heard the squeal of tires as he drove into the skid and out and then braked to a halt. He was shaking. How could he have fallen asleep again? He climbed out of the car again, truly frightened at how easily he had drifted off. He found himself walking back and forth across the lights of the main beams. Something inside him was shrinking from the darkness, from whatever might be hidden there. From childish fears. As he crossed the beams he threw gigantic distorted shadows up the walls of wood that surrounded him. Back in the car, he slapped himself around the face. Then again. Then a third time. Each time he shouted to himself, at himself, forcing his mind to stay awake. Cursing himself.

By the dim interior light, he studied the atlas. Not far to the edge of the page and not much further to his destination. He hoped. Ahead of him, the glare of the car lights. Behind him, darkness. He started to move forward, then stopped. In the confusion of the skid and turn, he had lost his bearings.

He guessed, turned the car through a half-circle. It was the same view, light and dark; no moon or stars; no sky, just the curving canopy of black shadows; the trees like two hands clasping their fingers together and slowly closing their palms. On him. Rattled, he grabbed his torch from the glove box and stepped out again, searching for the skid marks, the clue to his direction. It only took moments but it seemed as if time had paused to catch its breath.

He turned the car back and continued the journey. The drive was just as the map had predicted. Two crossroads close together, a left turn, a short distance and he was there. But where? The road just ended.

Carl grabbed the atlas and his torch and climbed out of the car. Still the oppressive forest, still the utter darkness, still the silence but.. Wait! In the background, the sound of a stream gurgling as it made its way through the undergrowth. He stood stock still, trying to find the direction it was coming from. But every time he thought he had pinned it down it seemed to change location.

Then he realised it was getting louder. And the sound was getting deeper becoming more of a rumble, a terrifying growl and finally a storm.

There were footsteps behind him, slow and methodical. He whirled, his torchlight flicking through the darkness. But the footsteps were still behind him. Carl turned again, fear coursing through his very soul.

“Who’s there?” he shouted. “Who are you? What do you want?”

He realized he was screaming then, but somehow he didn’t care. His ears were popping, his bladder straining.

“O dear God,” he shouted, “help me! What’s happening?”

A hand grabbed his shoulder from behind. A powerful grip, pinning him, paralyzing him. Tears burst from Carl’s eyes as his torch failed, hurling him into the darkness.

There was a stench in the waves of rapidly vibrating air.

“Hush. Hush, my son.”

It was not so much a voice as a movement of rocks, a landslide.

“You’ve been away so long. We’ve missed you.”

Sarcasm curled through the words.

“Who... who are you?” stammered Carl.

“Why, we’re your real family. You didn’t honestly think you could run, hide from us forever, did you?”

There were other voices now, cackles and scratches, distant screams.

“We’ve come to take you home. Look at your map.”

Slowly, Carl lifted the atlas. As he stared, the pages disappeared, were transformed into a mirror.

There was fire, endless fire that somehow couldn’t fend off the darkness around it. And he saw the twisted faces behind the screams. And then the black angel’s face, it’s lips pressed against his ear.

And then he saw his own true face. In that horrifying instant he understood, and leaving his humanity behind him, surrendered.