Dread

Man talks of a battle with nature, forgetting that if he won the bottle, he would find himself on the losing side.

-E F Schumacher

The least expected things always happen in the least expected times.

They sit staring at the cities’ lights, miles away, glittering against the dark sky. The date is going well, Ava thinks. Stars shine overhead, and a lovely breeze blows against her face. The car radio plays Beethoven, but softly, so that Sawyer and Ava aren’t disturbed. Both are lovers of nature, so their classic date is driving up into the forest outside the city of Madison, and camping overnight in sleeping bags. They’d done it many times. They don’t expect anything new. Ava doesn’t expect their lives to end tonight.

The trees sway slightly in the breeze behind them. Sawyer and Ava are transfixed by the city lights, but more in awe over the stars. Out here in the wild, with no glaring streetlights to make them invisible, they shine and cover the whole sky. Like a close up picture of a galaxy. Ava can name dozens of constellations. Orion, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor...

While Sawyer and Ava watch the stars, the grass tendrils move eerily behind them. As if controlled by one mind, it reaches out to them. Branches from the old trees tip down, nearly touching their heads. The leaves quiver silently above, inches from Sawyer’s hair.

Then in one swipe the branch whips around his neck and tightens.

“Sawyer!” Ava yells in surprise, but the branch picks him up, the boy gagging and choking to keep the air flowing to his lungs.

“Sawyer!” Ava yells again in horror as she climbs to her feet. What’s going on? Why is a tree attacking him? Questions of logic bounce around in her mind as she tugs on Sawyer’s legs, and then falls to the ground. She screams in pain.

The grass beneath them had grown in a matter of seconds, and now wriggles its way through her feet. Sawyer gags again and croaks her name. Ava tries to tear the grass out of her feet, but it just makes it grow faster. Is she going to die like this? This crazy, unbelievable death? With grass steadily making its way through her body and her boyfriend limp with a branch around his neck?

Ava spots the car. She begins inching her way towards it, screaming all the way as the grass grows further and further up her feet. She won’t survive if it grows past her knees. But Ava is strong. She would make it through this. There’s no other option.

Finally, she reaches the car door, fumbles for the handle and tugs it open. She painfully drags herself inside. Somewhere in her screaming mind, she’s aware that Beethoven is still playing. She rears up the engine and tugs against the grass, which is at her ankles now. She tries to drive away, pushing her foot hard against the pedal. The grass shoots up her leg rapidly. The car speeds forward and the grass grows higher and higher. It slides against a bone and Ava cries out. She loses control and the car skids. With a loud crash, it smashes against the trunk of Sawyer’s tree. The metal door pops off its hinges and Ava crawls out. The grass hadn’t grown fast enough to keep up with the car, so it had torn off. The roots of the tendrils whip against the air in anger.

How can they feel anger? A small part of Ava asks.

Ava looks at her legs and screams again. In some parts, the grass creeps right beneath the skin, like fat green veins. In others, it runs deep down in her muscles and brushes against bone. Grass even sticks out her feet. Although she’s in pain, she can’t bear to look at it anymore. She would gladly cut her legs off, but she needs them to run.

Sawyer is dead now. His purple faced body hangs limp, his hair falling over his wide, terrified eyes. The tree picks a new target: Ava. It stretches its tendril-like branches towards her, defying the laws of science. Ava swallows, ignores the pain in her legs and stumbles off onto the trail. With every step, she feels her blood pounding in her head and oozing out her wounds. She feels the excruciating pain from her legs scream for her to stop. She stumbles along until she comes to the Lynx stream. Afraid to lean against a tree, she collapses against a boulder and wheezes, her vision blurring. She gives herself exactly two minutes to calm down and then forces herself to think.

How did the plants do that? She doesn’t know. It’s pointless to question it, especially in her dazed state. So she focuses on her current situation.

She’s at the Lynx stream. That’s good. People come here all the time. Help could be only a few minutes away. The murderous trees and grass are far behind her. She can survive. Make it through this. But first she needs help. Help from someone who would actually believe her wild story. The police would never take her seriously. Her friends would think it was a prank. The only way someone would believe her is if she gives them proof.

Ava pulls out her cell phone and selects all her contacts. She clicks the record button and starts filming a video. She sees her face in the front camera. She looks terrible, her hair caked with dirt and bruises on her face.

“This is Ava Meres,” she says slowly to the camera, her eyes darting around like a wild animal’s. “And I have just been attacked by nature. My boyfriend Sawyer was killed by a tree”.

She turns the camera towards her legs, which would frighten even the bravest for days.

“Grass grew inside my feet and wouldn’t let me go,” she continues. “I narrowly escaped. This is not a joke. It’s not a prank.”

She tries her best to keep the fear from her voice. Accepting her fear would only terrify her more. Fear would cloud her mind. Get her killed. She doesn’t need fear; she needs logic. But how could logic ever come close to explaining something like this? Maybe a mutation? Something caused by toxic waste or radiation? Even bleeding through her feet and brain-numb, Ava knows it’s impossible.

Ava steps into the stream out of instinct. She grew up swimming in the Lynx. Of course, there are no killer plants nearby. There just can’t be. The water teems with life and cools down her burning legs. Ava sighs in relief as she wades deeper in and continues recording. She keeps it simple, partly because she doesn’t think she can remember half her vocabulary.

The Lynx flows through the towns and she can follow it. Her legs are living proof that the impossible happened. But even as she cools in the stream, she watches the video repeatedly to convince herself that it’s true.

Sawyer is dead. Murdered by a tree. Grass tried to kill her. What world is this? Maybe it’s all a dream. Maybe she would wake up in her toasty warm bed with Sawyer, warm and alive, just a phone call away. In just a few minutes, her alarm would ring and she would drag herself to the graduation ceremony she’d dreamt of this morning, and enter the adult world.

Ava gazes into the stream’s water. Even in the dark, she can make out the little aquatic plants at the bottom. They swish in the current, caressing her damaged legs. Colorful fish swim playfully through the weeds, some even daring to weave around her.

“I’m at the Lynx river now, where nothing is attacking me,” she continues. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows that every fact matters. It would help solve the problem. Maybe someone would cut the murderous tree down and burn that patch of grass away. Rip it all up and burn it.

Ava notices movement in the water. Out of nowhere, a large trout jumps up at her. It sinks its teeth into her nose. Ava loses her balance with a shriek and falls into the water. She grabs the fish and tries to pull it away, but it stays latched on. To her left and through swirls of blood, she sees her phone on a rock. She picks it up. Bashing it against the trout’s head and struggling for breath at the same time somehow attracts more fish to her rather than sending them scurrying away. They surround her in a multicolored mass, gearing up to attack.

The last thing Ava sees before they go for her throat is her phone saying the video has been sent.