Hemlock Veils

When Elizabeth closed the door and turned, her breath caught. The trees were fuller and more spectacular than she’d pictured, and the forest’s edge closer to her window, just a few yards. She could understand why staying here might be terrifying for someone who feared the monster in the forest.

Especially since the twigs at her eye level—two stories high—had fresh breaks.

***

Elizabeth walked the curve of Red Cedar Loop with her eyes upward, admiring the cedars that gave the street its name. They surrounded the narrow street on both sides, their branches draped with ropes of moss. And with the air crisp and the previously gray sky now clear, the beauty of nature moved her as it never had before. The storm had dampened everything, but birds squawked and sang all around as though life was always delightful. Even though the motel was behind her and the diner on the corner up ahead, she felt like the only soul atop the earth. In that moment, a thread of peculiar energy, palpable and hair-raising, tethered her to the environment. She liked to think it was the same co

Surely that was why these people who lived in such terror stayed in the place they feared: it was simply too beautiful to leave behind.

Upon reaching Clayton Road—the main street in town and the only way in and out, according to Eustace—she rounded the corner instead of crossing to the diner. A couple of people mingled outside it and stopped their conversation to stare at her. Did the blue-and-silver Maybach 57 at the curb also hold gawkers? What was such a luxurious and expensive car doing in a small town like this in the first place? Curious or not, she couldn’t go inside the diner yet, not when her locket was out here somewhere.

The narrow pathway at the edge of the hemlocks—the same one she and Eustace had emerged from in the middle of the night—showed itself, and the moment she crossed into the damp and ever-so-green forest, the air changed. Like she’d stepped into another world entirely, a world where the normal cares of life didn’t exist and she could simply be herself. She could simply breathe. And in that moment, with dense vegetation brushing against the arms of her jacket and wet leaves beneath her boots, she knew she was destined for this place.

The farther her feet took her, the more she felt it. She walked a narrow valley in the crevice formed by rising hills on either side of her. Vivid green and earthy brown were the only hues in this other world, from thickening foliage and clinging moss, to naked branches and the slender trail that led her.

A large fallen trunk blocked the trail, as she’d expected: the same that had taken her to the ground and whose blanket of moss looked more like green shag carpet. As she approached, a small splash of red stood out, a color that didn’t belong. Sheltered by the ferns, it decorated the cedar that stood tall behind the fallen trunk. She’d leaned against this tree last night, when the beast breathed her in. A meager stab of guilt penetrated her heart, simply for being the cause of this blood. According to the old man, he’d never been lucky enough to hit his target, but thanks to her distraction, he’d been successful for the first time in almost fifty years.

She chided herself for again feeling compassion toward the monster everyone swore would rip her to shreds if it had the chance. Whose side was she on?

She gravitated to the trunk, examining the blood when the forest floor glimmered. Silver, slithering strands. Her locket’s chain emerged from mud and leaves as though grown here, and when she picked it up, it hung open. The tiny pictures were slightly water damaged and the clear cover misted from the inside, but all in all it appeared perfectly intact. She exhaled a sigh of relief and smiled as she ran her thumb over the picture of an i

“Beth?”

Startled, she turned to Sheriff Taggart and Eustace. Eustace still wore waders, but was free of the yellow slicker and hat. With folded arms, he lifted one of his dark gray eyebrows. His beard appeared whiter in the sunlight, especially in contrast to his brows. The bandage on his hand needed to be replaced, since red saturated the center. “After all that last night, you still have the stones to come out here alone?”

“My locket,” she said, holding it up. “It fell from my bag last night when—” She cut herself off. “Anyway, I had to find it.” She folded her arms, matching the old man. “And I thought it was only dangerous after dark?”

“It is,” Taggart said, “but most are too afraid to set foot out here no matter how bright the sun is shining.” They watched her, expectantly.

“I couldn’t stay away. Really, I don’t know how anyone can. I’ve never been anywhere so beautiful.”

Taggart’s dark brown mustache twitched and he gave his head a slight shake. “That beauty can be deceiving, Ms. Ashton. Just be careful.”

“She’s a brave one, she is,” Eustace said, finally unfolding his arms. Even through his beard, there was no mistaking the lifted corner of his mouth.

“Either brave or stupid. No offense.”

“I’m neither,” she said too defensively. “Just…lost something special to me.”

Taggart’s eyes found the tree beside her and he took an anxious step toward it, studying the splatter of blood. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, almost to himself.

“You still think it’s a mistake for me to come out here, Sheriff?” Eustace said. He lifted his chin when Taggart met his eyes.

“You think it survived?”

“Wish I could say, but the thing is massive. Definitely wounded it though.”

Taggart’s eyes found the blood again. “I’ll be,” he repeated under his breath.

Elizabeth started past them, the way they’d come. She didn’t know why, but the whole thing didn’t sit right. They caught up to her and their steps grew leisurely and slow.

“We’ll get some food and coffee in you,” Taggart said from behind, “then Brian and I will accompany you to your vehicle. He’s got a tow truck that’ll fit the three of us just fine.”

She nodded, and after a minute said, “Tell me, Sheriff, if everyone is so afraid out here and this beauty is so deceiving, why stay? In Hemlock, I mean.”

With a hand casually on his belt, he shrugged. “Guess folks like to stay where their lives are. This is home to us, and most folks are established here. Besides the monster, this is a great little community. We don’t have many problems and everyone gets along for the most part. So if we all stay out of the forest”—he shot a stern glance at Eustace—“we can live here in peace.”

She got the sense he felt like she was interrupting that peace. “I hope I haven’t caused too much trouble, and I’ll make sure to thank you all in some way.” She didn’t know how she would, only that she had to.

“Now, Beth,” Eustace said. “Stop all that nonsense. Like I said last night, you’re welcome here anytime, as long as you need. It’s about time we were given the opportunity to help someone out besides our own. Isn’t that right, Sheriff?”

Taggart eyed Eustace. “It ain’t the help we got a problem with, Bathgate, and you know it.” His tall, lanky body pushed through the hemlocks. They followed, and once in the open sunlight, on Clayton Road and directly across from the diner, Elizabeth squinted. She realized, when looking down Clayton Road in the hope of seeing Mt. Hood in the distance, that the town wasn’t just barricaded by trees, but also by the hills. Hemlock Veils, nestled in the cleavage of forest peaks, had no clear sight of Mt. Hood—not even the tip of its snowcapped peak.

“I won’t be any trouble while I’m here. You have my word.”

He sighed and turned to her. “I ain’t worried about that either, Ms. Ashton. It’s that.” He motioned to the forest behind her. “It’s bringing in outsiders and putting their lives in danger. It’s one thing for a resident to make a conscious decision to live here, knowing full-well the dangers. But you’re stuck here for who knows how long, and I just want to make sure you’re not putting yourself in harm’s way. You’re not from around here; you’re not used to the rules.”