NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge 2017. Maximum word count 2500. My prompts were suspense genre, being followed and coach of a sports team. When I first read the prompts, I was half asleep (being a USA competition it was early morning) and I thought it was a suspense, being followed and set on an actual coach carrying a sports team, the idea had already began to form when I realised my error so I stayed with it! Whether or not I get through to the next round will be decided in March. I will keep you posted.
Devil's Ridge
Sarah cowered against the raging torrent and disappeared within the confines of the shelter, temporarily held prisoner with the others by the rumbling storm. Her Mary Jane’s squelched soddenly beneath her freezing feet. She cursed her stupidity and mother nature in equal measure. Gingham cotton clung to her legs and her light jacket groaned under the weight of the rain. What had started as a beautiful autumn morning soon turned to a light breeze with a smattering of rain, which rapidly descended into a screaming squall as soon as she left the comfort of her gallery.
The cold inky darkness sank into the marrow of her bones. Bouts of lightning burst on the streets and steadily made its way from one end of the town to the other, followed by explosions of thunder in great waves of discordant and demented sounds. As she huddled, head bowed, hands thrust deep in damp pockets she peered at the strangers who, like her, were captured by the tempest, they too were cold, wet, and miserable. The noise level became so intense that it viciously rattled the glass panels, startling Sarah making her and the other hostages tremble. Nobody seemed able to speak, deafened by the roar and one by one her fellow captives were rescued until Sarah stood alone.
He watched her, revelling in the cataclysm of the chaos. He groaned as her hair danced to the rhythm of the howling winds, pathetically rendered helpless beneath the pitiful shelter she sought. The unleashed erratic elements thrilled him and his mind hungrily devoured her vulnerability. The gusty blasts ripped at her thin clothing, becoming transparent through the curtain of rain. This storm was different. He had never experienced such wrath, like the black gates of hell had been opened. Terror dripped like the rain itself from her face he illiberally absorbed her peril. Suddenly the lights extinguished and she was gone.
Ringing David for the umpteenth time, his familiar cheery voicemail infuriated her. Was he still at the school? She glanced over to the huge building and just as she was contemplating hunting her husband down, the floodlights from the sports field flickered and darkened, casting an eerie gloom over her weather haven. As she listened to the rumbling retreating into the distance, felt the rain wane to a mild tolerance, she opened her umbrella and with furtive steps set off home.
She was only a couple of minutes into her journey when her trusted umbrella collapsed against a sudden gust of wind and in sheer temper she threw it in the nearest garbage bin. Battling against the wind, with arms folded firmly over her chest, sheer determination pushed her forward. Sarah heard a stifled cough behind her and she increased her speed, footsteps mimicked her own and tentatively she turned her head. There was nobody there. Again, she plunged onwards but sensed a presence which unnerved her, however each time she turned the streets were empty. Now afraid she took her phone from her saturated bag and held it close to her. Sarah didn’t believe in ghosts, but she did believe in predators, in psychopaths.
A growl of tyres, the sudden illumination of headlights startled Sarah to a standstill. Glancing toward the road, temporarily blinded by the full-beam she watched as the vehicle pulled in toward her, dimming the lights. The doors opened and a jolly voice called out to her “Mrs Hart, what the devil are you doing out in this weather?” Sarah scrunched her eyes, only making out a silhouette in the door of the vehicle. “I’m sorry” she said “Do I know you?” The stranger jumped down, and for the first time Sarah noticed all the juvenile faces peering through the steamed windows. “It’s me Sarah, Coach James” he laughed thrusting his hand forward, we met a few months back, I work with your husband David?”
Sarah had no idea who the man was, but in all honesty, she had been introduced to so many of David’s ‘colleagues’ that they all merged into one unintelligible blur. “Get yourself on here sweetheart and we will see you home safely.” Sarah was tempted, extremely tempted she was frozen to the bone and she was sure somebody was following her, after all a bus filled with sullen teenagers did not really pose much of a threat. “Are you sure?” she probed “It’s not going out of your way, is it?”
“Not at all, always happy to help a damsel in distress, isn’t that right boys?” a collective murmur echoed around the bus. Sarah smiled and let Coach James help her onto the bus, taking the only available seat at the front. She flinched as the Coach sat himself down next to her, too close, thigh touching thigh. She tried to push herself further into her seat and crossed her legs to avoid his touch but he just edged closer.
“Did you know I used to teach David football? Ten years ago now, he was a damned fine player too, one of the best, but he preferred the science lab rather than the playing field.” Sarah sensed a bitterness to his words. “No I didn’t know that, I thought he had always been a geek.” The coach laughed at this and the mood lifted. “Well he has done okay for himself, back here at Brookfield, head of the Science Department at the age of twenty-six, all those hours spent in the lab were certainly worth it.” Sarah smiled.
“Where did you meet?” he probed.
“We met at university. I was doing my Art Degree, I got lost looking for the studio and somehow found myself in his Lab. He was working on a thesis and I was his audience. To this day, I have absolutely no idea what that thesis was, however after class I went back and listened to him talk passionately for three hours” Sarah laughed at the memory, she loved telling that story. Coach James fell silent and she glanced at him, the wrinkles and folds on his face were not necessarily prominent but she assumed he was well into his fifties. She wondered how he kept up with this cluster of boys. Suddenly he was staring at her again and she withered under his scrutiny. “You are a beauty Sarah, David is a lucky man.” He edged even closer and Sarah felt claustrophobic wedged between him and the window. A small knot of fear coiled deep in the pit of her stomach.
“I think I will get off here, I’m almost home” she declared jumping up quickly, almost knocking Coach James off his seat. Thank you so much Mr James for your kindness.”
“Oh Sarah, it’s William to you and sit yourself back down, we’re almost at Devil’s Ridge and you live over the other side. David would never forgive me unless I got you home safely.” So anxious was Sarah to get off the bus that it did not occur to her that he knew where she lived. “No I am fine, honestly, I need to pop to a friend’s first anyway” she lied.
“Well if you’re sure?” he replied, disappointment dripping from his lips. Sarah glanced at the boys who were either staring out of the misted windows or glued to their phones. None of them acknowledged her in any way whatsoever. “Don’t mind them lot” he breathed down her ear, “got a proper thrashing tonight, they’re sulking.” Sarah laughed nervously as the bus came to a standstill and she hurried through the open door, fearing the lecherous Coach was about to pull her back inside. Head dipped she scurried forward and only as the bus passed did she glance up at the sorrowful muddy faces, now staring back at her, nowhere did she see William. She turned but the street behind was deserted and as the bus headed round the bend toward Devil’s Ridge, Sarah was plunged back in darkness, with only a faint gleam from distant street lights creating monstrous shadows.
This was a bad idea, a terrible idea but Sarah could not have spent a second longer on that bus. The rain was now a very fine drizzle and the wind had dropped, she couldn’t take the bend, there was no sidewalk and therefore decided to take the shortcut through the park. Sarah had moved here only six months earlier, newly married and filled with vision, but Brookfield was dull and grey. Sarah was an artist, she lived for colour, she longed for it, but David was so excited to be returning to his home town, to the school he had attended growing up and Sarah loved David.
He was watching her from within the shadows. His expression was of one being forced to endure the most unpleasant urges. His gaze was unwavering and unabashed. Those grey eyes did not travel up to her face or down to her Mary Jane’s, but they followed her as if really focusing on something a couple of feet further away. Perhaps his brooding nature lead him to be locked in agony as he observed, it was hard to know. She quickened her pace as though detecting his existence, this just intensified his urges. He silently followed.
Sarah once again sensed a presence. Her body temperature was depressed and exhausted. Was she just imaging hot breath on her neck, icy tentacles on her face, the slither of fingers exploring her hair? Was her imagination creating an extraordinary frightening ambiance that really didn’t exist? She stopped several times, but the darkness ate away at her perception, she could barely see. So certain she was not alone, Sarah called out “hello” but her voice evaporated within the cold murky night air. Hurrying now, not far to go, she quickened her pace. Footfalls echoed, were they her own? She didn’t pause, she didn’t stop, she didn’t look back.
Falling through the front door the warmth engulfed her. What she needed right now was real comfort, strong arms and reassuring words. “David” she called at the top of her voice. He appeared in an instant, worry etched over his unshaven face. “Jeez babe, where have you been? You’re soaked to the skin, why didn’t you call me?” he reached into his pocket and looked up shamefacedly “you did call me didn’t you? Goddam phone is in the lab.” He pulled her to him, “I’m sorry Sarah, I’m an absolute imbecile, what can I say? I can’t believe you walked all the way home, and in this!”
“Not all the way, I managed to get a ride from a very peculiar colleague of yours” Sarah laughed, all anger and fear dissipated now she was back in David’s arms. “Well most of my colleagues are rather bizarre, which one?” he questioned. “David, I need to get out of these ridiculous wet clothes, we can talk about it later, why don’t you make it up to me and get me something delicious to eat whilst I defrost in a hot bath.”
“You have got yourself a deal gorgeous” he winked, “anything in particular you fancy?”
“Surprise me.”
Later, David and Sarah sat snuggled on their couch, glass of wine in hand as the flames from their trusted log burner licked, curled and swayed. “Mmmm David, let’s stay here all weekend, just the two of us” she tickled his neck with delicate butterfly kisses. “That sounds wonderful, but I have that memorial to go to in the morning. Tell you what, I will show my face and come straight back, you don’t even have to get out of bed.”
“Nahhhh it’s no fun in bed without you there” she teased, “and what memorial? You never mentioned it?”
“Did I not? Thought I had baby.”
“No, you didn’t, just like you didn’t remember to pick up your phone!” she reminded him. “What’s the memorial for?”
David sighed “I am the worst husband in the world, aren’t I?” taking Sarah into his embrace he explained “It’s a remembrance thing, an anniversary.”
“Of what?” Sarah probed.
“It happened a long time ago, well ten years ago tonight to be precise. The school football team were returning home after a game, when the bus they were on swerved, possibly an animal ran out, nobody really knows, anyway the bus swerved and went hurtling over the edge of Devil’s Ridge.”
Sarah stared at him “what?”
“I know, it was awful, all the boys were killed, such a tragedy, but you know what made it worse Sarah?” she just stared and shook her head, momentarily stunned.
“I should have been on that bus Sarah; can you believe it? That’s why I must go tomorrow. I should have been playing that night, but I got stuck in the lab, lost track of time, you know, like I do? They went without me, weird right?”
“Oh my god David” tears filled her eyes and he pulled her to him.
“Hey now don’t be getting all upset, it was a long time ago, divine intervention or whatever you want to call it kept me in the lab that night and I am here to tell the tale.”
“I don’t understand, I saw them, they were there, they were real, everybody was killed? Are you sure?” she whispered.
“What are you talking about? Saw who?”
“Everybody was killed?” she repeated.
“Yeah, all sixteen boys on board, coach and the driver, the drop was horrific, you know, you’ve seen Devil’s Ridge. What was strange though, they never found the body of Coach James, they think that he probably got thrown from the carnage of the wreck, ended up in Brookfield River and got swept away.”
He looked at her ashen face, held her trembling body “babe what’s the matter? Are you okay? You’re shaking.”
Sarah stared at him, digesting his revelations and the last few hours became a scrambled mass of confusion, with no reasonable or plausible interpretation. Did she imagine it? Was she going mad?
“Sarah, Sarah, are you sure you’re alright.
She looked at him, stroking his stubble, “yes, sorry, it’s just such a shock to think that you could have been gone before I even got to meet you.” She curled back into his embrace, oblivious to the cold grey eyes at the window, and released her mind of the terrible images circulating within, after all, Sarah didn’t believe in ghosts.
The End.
