‘I’m heading off,’ Elise said. ‘I mean it this time.’
Mum would be waiting up, pretending to watch a late night movie, unable to sleep until her little girl was snuggled up in bed.
Michelle took a swig of cheap chardonnay. ‘Have you called a taxi, or an Uber?’
‘I don’t need one. My place is on the other side of the nature reserve. It’ll only take me five minutes on foot.’
‘Nature reserve?’ Michelle said, raising her eyebrows. ‘It’s called a cemetery, sweetie, and you are not planning on going through there, are you?’
‘I’m not scared of headstones and wilted flowers. It must be safer than following the deserted road all the way around the reserve and past the industrial zone.’
Michelle wasn’t impressed. She looked around the yard. There were more than fifty people chatting and dancing by the pool, and even a few swimming despite the chill spring air. Everybody was drunk. Nobody was in a fit state to drive.
‘Have you forgotten the disappearances around the area? It’s not safe for women at night.’
‘The last disappearance was a businessman in his forties,’ Elise scoffed. ‘He’s probably down the coast somewhere, screwing his secretary and eating lobster every night.’
‘I’m serious, babe.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Elise said. She drained her glass and held her arms out to give her friend a hug.
‘I don’t like it, El. Just promise you’ll call me when you get home,’ Michelle said softly into her ear.
‘You’re worse than my mum. Yes, I promise,’ she said.
Elise quickly left the pool area, making sure not to get caught up in conversation with anybody, and made her way along the side of the house. She passed under a lattice arch covered in jasmine, and opened the low gate separating the front garden from the pavement. It was so quiet she could hear herself breathing. The noise of the party already seemed distant. Nearby, she heard an owl hoot.
She took her smartphone from her little white handbag. The reflection of the full moon glimmered across the screen, and she was thankful for its powerful light. It would make staying on course a touch easier. She checked the shortcut. The map wasn’t detailed enough to provide an itinerary, but she wasn’t concerned. She’d already figured that all she had to do was follow the path through the nature reserve and enter the cemetery. Then, if she walked across it in a straight line, she would come out right near her house.
She put her phone away and headed down the steep street. Pretty houses with picket fences and immaculate hedges lined either side. Most had their lights off, but the soft glow behind curtains here and there indicated that a few of the neighbours were still up, watching television or reading a book. Elise thought of her mother and vowed she would thank her when she got home; thank her for staying up, for being so understanding, for everything.
From further up the hill, the nature reserve hadn’t looked as foreboding as it did once she was standing in front of it. The path shone under the moonlight for a few metres, before curving out of view. Apart from that small patch, there was only a dense wall of trees and bushes.
She hesitated for a moment before crossing the street and disappearing into the reserve. Stillness and timelessness engulfed her, but every now and then, something would rustle in the undergrowth and make her jump. She guessed they were just scrub turkeys or possums, nothing to worry about.
The path slithered along and eventually kissed the stone wall of the cemetery. There was a wrought iron gate providing access, and when she pushed it open, its ancient hinges complained. She wanted to suppress the words from her mind, but they seemed to echo in her ears; loud enough to wake the dead. Her skin crawled.
Trees grew within the cemetery, but only sparsely, and the mosaic of light and shadow made by headstones under the full moon was starkly beautiful. She looked back the way she’d come, trying to decide which realm was more daunting, the pitch-black woodland she’d traversed or the shadowy necropolis in front of her, and just as she was about to turn around, a figure appeared on the path.
She’d been followed.
The figure stopped, and Elise could make out a red and white baseball cap. She recognised it immediately. He’d been at the party, whoever he was, and he’d been leering at her, looking her up and down with lecherous eyes. Her heart started to pound.
One minute. That’s how long she guessed it would take her to get home if she sprinted, and assuming she didn’t trip on a tumbled headstone. She was drunk, but a pretty good runner.
She spun around, allowed herself an instant to study the terrain in front of her, and ran. Thoughts of her mother sitting in front of the television with the volume down low and of Michelle shaking her head nagged at her as she rushed past graves and twisted trees, but she pushed them aside and concentrated on where her feet were landing. Her heart was hammering and blood was throbbing in her temples, but she somehow felt numb, as though it was just a nightmare and she was already safe in bed, having decided to wait for a taxi.
There was no way of knowing how close he was, but she couldn’t look back. She had to keep running as fast as she could, watching her feet. One wrong step and it would all be over.
The main gate came into view. It stood between two skeletal trees, and the main thoroughfare approached it from the left before joining her street on the other side. She’d almost made it out. But as she reached the gate, Elise noticed a pile of blankets wedged between two protruding roots. A moment later, she realised that a man was standing by the gate. He was dressed in black and wore a broad hat. Her instincts told her it was a trap, and her stomach knotted. She would have screamed if she’d been able to spare enough breath.
He grinned broadly, his rows of pointy teeth reminding her of a shark.
She veered to the left, not knowing what else to do, and followed the thoroughfare back into the cemetery. She had no idea where she was heading or how long her tired legs could carry her, but her instincts urged her to keep running. The rows of headstones glowing in the moonlight raced past her on either side, and she kept telling herself, over and over with every footfall, that the dead couldn’t help her. Her only hope was in the land of the living.
She spotted a narrow path which she hoped would lead to another gate. There was no knowing for sure, but she had to make a split-second decision. She changed course suddenly, almost twisting an ankle, and dashed along the path to find herself bearing down on a small wrought iron gate. As she reached it, without really thinking, she put her hands out and hoisted her body over the gate. It worked. She managed to land on her feet and keep running. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder.
Dogs barked from behind tall fences and a startled grey cat bounded out from under a rusty car with no tyres or number plates. Then she heard a gentle voice calling into the night.
‘Lenny? Come inside. Where are you?’
An elderly woman was hobbling around her front garden. She had a red and green tartan blanket draped over her shoulders and a steaming cup of tea in one hand. Not exactly a knight in shining armour, but she would do.
‘Help,’ Elise gasped.
‘Are you all right, dear?’
The woman peered past her but didn’t look too concerned.
Elise forced herself to look back.
The street was empty.
‘I was chased. A man tried to catch me. Well, two men actually. I’m not sure,’ she blathered breathlessly.
‘Come inside. Quickly now, dear.’
Elise opened the gate and followed the old lady along the pebbled path and up to the porch. They hurried inside.
‘You must be terrified,’ she said, closing the door. She led Elise into the modest living room. ‘Sit down and I’ll pour you a cup of tea to calm your nerves. I’ll call the police. This isn’t the first time there have been strange men hanging around this part of town. Mrs Lamont’s daughter got a terrible fright not long ago. She was walking through the graveyard in the middle of the night, the silly girl.’
Elise winced.
‘I’m a mother too. We worry at the best of times. I’m Pam, by the way. What’s your name?’
‘Elise. Thank you, Pam. You’ve saved my life,’ she said, but her words faded to a sob, and she broke down in tears.
‘Not at all, Elise. It’s only natural.’ Pam poured a cup of tea and sat beside her.
Elise wiped her tears away and drew a deep breath.
‘I’ve never been so scared in all my life.’
‘I can imagine, dear. I don’t know what the world is coming to. There are some beastly men out there.’
No sooner had she uttered those words than footsteps could be heard on the garden path.
‘Somebody’s outside,’ Elise whispered.
A key turned in the lock.
‘Who is it?’
‘That’s my Lenny. He’s been out hunting,’ Pam explained.
‘Lenny? But cats can’t open doors.’
The door swung open and the man from the cemetery stepped inside. He recognised Elise and his eyes widened with surprise. Then he reached into his coat and produced a red and white baseball cap, which he flung at her. He grinned as her face screwed up, and she saw that his mouth was impossibly wide and filled with row after row of razor-sharp teeth. Fresh blood glistened on his tongue.
She tried to scream, but one unexpectedly strong hand was clasped over her mouth and the other was gripping her hair. All she could do was watch in terror as the old lady smiled at her son.
[bctt tweet=”OCTOBER TERROR 2018 Short Story Award – Entry #16 ‘The Shortcut’ by Cameron Trost – Enjoy all this terrific, disturbing material you have in your hands, lots of horror stories at your disposal for your dark delight and vote!” username=”theboldmom”]
On October 23rd we’ll close submissions and open a poll for the readers to choose their favourite one! You’ll have a week to make your choice and on October 31st we’ll announce the winner!!!
