Page 9 of Untouchable

There were a few cars parked in the lot, but no one was in sight. She stood a long time, trying to even out her breath, before she was capable of walking. She took step after step until she reached the trail’s beginning.

It was the one on the left. She knew it.

All she had to do was take a few more steps, and she’d be on the trail, into the woods. She’d known this path by heart when she was a child, but other memories had blotted the knowledge out in the intervening years.

A familiar panic overwhelmed her as she neared the trees—dark depths and tangled branches that hid dark secrets.

The fear was irrational. There were no dangers on this trail today. She wasn’t going to let a silly phobia cripple her like this. She could continue walking—at least a short time. She wasn’t so weak and cowardly as to turn back now.

Closing her eyes, she took ten steps down the trail, almost stumbling on a large tree root.

She had to open her eyes then, and the woods were already surrounding her. She turned instinctively and took a ragged breath as she saw the clear space and sunshine opening up back at the entrance.

She was shaking all over, and she heard her dad’s voice, coming from somewhere far back in her memory. He was telling her not to run on ahead.

He’d worked as an accountant—not a particularly athletic man in any way—but he’d enjoyed weekend hikes with her. He would tell her all about the trees and shrubs and birds and little critters, and she would try to race him up the steeper hills.

There was a curve in the trail now, and she forced herself to keep walking even though her vision was starting to blur. She could barely breathe, and her heartbeat pounded in her head and her feet.

She was going to throw up. She was going to faint. She was going to fall into the darkness beyond the precipice she was barely clinging to right now, fall into the void.

She heard her father’s voice again, echoing through the years.

Kelly! Kelly Bird! Slow down! Wait for me!

She was out of sight of him now—beyond a curve in the trail. She was jogging, but she tripped on a big rock and fell on her hands and knees.

She scraped up her hands a bit, and it stung.

Kelly stared down at her hands now. They were clean. Pale. Well manicured. No scrapes or cuts at all.

Kelly Bird! No joke! Stop where you are and wait.

She’d understood the edge of seriousness in his tone, and she’d stood up from her fall and not moved. She hadn’t always obeyed her parents, but she didn’t want her father to be angry.

It was their Saturday hike together. They always had a good time.

As she’d been waiting, she’d heard a deafening crack of noise, then a lot of rustling. And then—nothing. Not her father’s voice. Not the sounds of his footsteps catching up to her.

Nothing.

Dad? Dad, are you coming?

Her words had echoed through the woods, met only with silence.

So finally she’d turned around and walked back down the trail the way she’d come.

When she got around the curve, she saw her father.

He was lying on his back on the ground.

When she ran over to him, she’d seen that part of his head wasn’t there anymore.

It was blood and brains and pieces of skull but not her father anymore.

The rest of the day she couldn’t even remember. It blurred into a vague nightmare.

But she remembered the trail, and she remembered her father’s dead body.