Sunshine Valley

Chapter 1

Welcome to Sunshine

It was dark, save for a full moon. Jaxson ran, clumsy and ragged through the bush, the way a panicked ape would. His left arm was numb, with a useless dangling hand missing some fingers. Swinging limply as he hurried. A right arm was clutched tightly over his stomach to keep his guts inside. His stride was breaking all manner of twigs and shrubbery; rampaging through everything in his way, no matter how much it scratched or cut him. No older than 19, he was dirty, bruised with several cuts in various stages of bleeding, his clothes were torn. Jaxson was strong looking with a broad chest and an athletic gift. Which was partly what kept him going for so long, that and hope in what was in his jacket.

Jaxson’s torn stomach was bleeding through and over his clenched fingers like a stuck pig. Running down warm red streaks over his shirt and jacket, which trickled down his pants to his crotch, his knees, then his tennis shoes, finally it dripped on the ground. Small, slimy red splatters were being slung on leaves and dirt with each sprinted lunge. A monster was on him, arguably the worst one. Nearly took his arm off earlier. Full intention on twisting his intestines into bowties. Peeling off his fingernails, eating his tongue.

Jaxson couldn’t hear it now, only crickets, toads, mosquitoes; the forest he plowed through. That didn’t mean anything, it was quiet when it wanted to be. Deadly in every regard, likely watching him right now. Trying to trick him, letting him think he was safe. A game he never had a chance of winning. Jaxson came on a clearing by the railroad tracks and saw his friend Amber in the distance. Standing under a streetlight next to a pigeon coop. She was playing on her phone, wondering where he was. Jaxson wasted no time staggering towards her, pushing off a tree while leaving a bloody handprint as he rushed.

“Holy shit!” Amber put her hand over her mouth as soon as the words came out. This wasn’t supposed to happen, she thought while seeing him, this wasn’t fox territory, it was Hag. Had been for months. The route they painstakingly sketched was wrong. Either way Amber knew she had to be quiet. Jaxson was being hunted and that meant now she was to. Quickly hobbling towards her, he came into the light, he didn’t have long. Jaxson tried to use his left arm, but it had died on the way without him noticing. Using his injured hand over his stomach with groan of pain, Jaxson hunched over as he slowed and thrusted a plastic wrapped letter towards Amber, her hands clasped around it, trying not to vomit. She noticed his intestines were starting to slink out of him without a hand to keep them inside, hanging like rows of coiled worms. Dangling curls of fleshy pink rubber.

“What is it?” Amber asked.

“It’s a letter for someone outside the veil, take the plastic off before you send it. Guy said it had to go on the third pigeon, only that one. Has to be third.” Jaxson slurred and felt woozy, his vison began to pulse and blur occasionally, leaning against the light pole he was barely able to keep upright.

“Whose it for?” Amber almost broke the wax seal before Jaxson grabbed her wrist to stop her, leaving blood smeared over her hand.

“Someone who can save us, break the veil, stop all this… it can’t be opened, Guy’s orders. Just put it on the 3rd pigeon and send it towards the moon, number three, go Amber I’ll distract Fox!” Jaxson’s mouth coughed a flurry of blood which splattered over Amber’s black shirt. He clutched his stomach trying to save his guts.

“Don’t worry, I got this!” Amber tried to take his blood covered hand for a last reunion, but Jaxson pulled away.

“She needs something to play with… I’m almost done though, I won’t last long. Please go, don’t argue, just go!” Jaxson turned and began stumbling in the opposite direction. Shouting and stomping and being as loud as he could as he hobbled on into the night. Amber looked at the letter for a moment, then ran towards the pigeon coop. Kneeling down she fumbled in the dark for the one marked 3. It was a healthy looking one, cleaner than the others almost like a dove, she thought it looked lucky as she grasped it. Wrestling the bird who fluttered its wings in panic, Amber forcefully tied the letter to its leg with a leather string.

That’s when the screams started. Not fake ones or loud noises meant to distract, the ones she heard were real pain. Jaxson had been caught. She hadn’t expected it so quickly. Amber didn’t need to imagine what was happening to him as she finished the knot. Maybe he was getting the rest of his intestines pulled out or Fox was castrating him or peeling his skin off, maybe all at the same time and worse. Anything was possible, his screams were sharp and terrified. Amber finally secured the knot and brought the pigeon out. She looked for the right direction to toss the bird.

“Towards the moon,” she said to herself. As she aligned the pigeon just right. Facing down overgrown railroad tracks. Jaxson’s distant screams suddenly stopped. Everything stopped, even the crickets, toads, and mosquitos were silent. Amber almost froze in fear, because it was coming. With a short breath, she kept it together enough to toss the pigeon high into the air, watching it fly towards the moon down the railroad tracks. Just as Jaxson said. She would’ve been happy if not for the sound of gravel shifting under bare feet behind her.

“God… I hate this part,” she said, and in a moment, Amber’s head was gone, snatched. Held in the small pale hands of something ancient, standing in a yellow raincoat. It watched the pigeon fly away into the moonlit sky. What did they die for? Fox wondered. Smelling the air, there was wax, scent of fine partridge. She would remember this smell. Whatever it was, if she ever found it again, she would kill it.

Cincinnati, Ohio

It was an expensive looking envelope that she found at her door this morning. Not the paper white free ones that offices carry by the bundles. It was thicker, slightly yellow from storage. With a golden wax stamp depicting a honeybee with its wings spread. She fingered it for a moment, feeling where the wax stamp clung to the luxury paper. It was almost a crime to ruin something so nice, but she did. Skipping over a nasty brown puddle on the sidewalk while breaking the seal. The letter’s quality was exactly the level she suspected from the wax stamp’s beauty. Even written in pretty maroon ink. She read allowed quietly to herself:

Dear Ms. Cross,

On behalf of the Cross estate, I regretfully inform you that your loving uncle Ivo has passed away. Lacking any heirs, as his closest living relative, he has bequeathed to you the entire property of Cross farms. In order to receive this inheritance, you will need to come to 1800 Ivo drive, Sunshine Vally Kentucky 42984. We will be waiting for your arrival with excitement, sincerely yours.

Estate executor,

P. Sherman Esq

“Hmmm, someone took time to write you out didn’t they?” Mariana thought for a moment, somewhere between humored and skeptic and something else she wasn’t sure about. Feeling a slight gust of wind which smelled like rain against her nose, she crunched her face while thinking. It had to be some kind of scam right? She’s lived in Ohio her entire life, she’d never been to Kentucky and had no ties there that she knew of there. Even though Louisville was right on the border, she could walk a bridge to get there but never had. Not to mention Mariana was sure she didn’t have an “Uncle Ivo”. She didn’t even have an uncle, or aunt, or really much family at all since her father passed away. It had to be fake, she was sure.

Dusting off the idea, Mariana approached the happily named: Jordan’s Cookies and Coffee – made from scratch, she quickly folded the letter and stuffed it into her backpack. Nervous breathing mixed with a quick prayer, which was more of a general request to God to help her do good today. A bell rang over the glass door as she walked in, there weren’t any customers she could see, only a waiter setting tables who noticed her right away.

“Hello Ma’am, table for one or door dash?” he asked.

“Oh… I’m actually from the temp agency? I was told to come here?” She smiled, it was awkward with too much teeth, but it was the best she could do at the moment.

“Alrighty, Jordan that temp is here!” The waiter yelled before heading back to setting the tables. Before long a man a head taller than herself walked through a set of saloon doors marked kitchen. He was broad, wearing an apron with rolled up sleeves. His face was covered by a bloody red beard, a set of thick buddy holly glasses and a tightly pulled man bun.

“I’m Jordan, it’s nice to meet you, do you have any experience as a kitchen cook?” he asked, making Mariana freeze for a moment. Thinking, questioning suddenly, if she had ever even seen a kitchen, then realizing that thought was crazy.

“Oh… uhm… I was told I was going to be waiting tables,” she said. Recalling everything the temp agency had told her. It was a waiter position, the description said maybe some mopping and dishwashing too. But no one said anything about cooking.

“Yea that was when Jeff was out sick, but as you can see he pulled through. I can still use the help though, we need someone to help chop the onions and set the pots to boil.” Jordan said, his smile was warm looking, inviting as he waved his hand towards the kitchen. Mariana racked her brain trying to think of what to say next. She was a terrible cook. All her meals are microwaved. She’d lived in her apartment for 4 months and had never even turned on the oven.

“I’m… I’m… just not sure if I can, the agency said that I was just going to be a waitress for today. Doesn’t that violate something?” She thought it would sound less passive aggressive than it did. Less rude, and more of a gentil nudge for what she thought was right. Jordan’s warm smile faded into the scowl of a boss who didn’t care as he stepped close and lorded over her. Invading her personnel space the way a hateful man would.

“Listen, I don’t need another waiter, I need another cook. Either come help in the kitchen or get out of my restaurant.” Jordan’s tone was rude and territorial. No more warm millennial welcome. Here, right now, he was God of this earth, he was that type of boss. The kind that would run a lemonade stand like the navy and treat it as an act of terrorism if you asked for a raise. Mariana considered leaving then, she wanted to but needed the money. Things were too tight right now for her to have choices. And she had already decided she was too self-conscious to be a stripper or do only fans.

“Okay, whatever you need,” she said. Jordan’s warm smiled returned and he guided her towards the kitchen where a short man older than them both was scurrying around preparing things.

“That’s Miguel, he doesn’t speak much English so if you need to bother him good luck. Most of our stuff just needs to be heated, but there’s a few dishes that are more hands on. At least until I can find a new vendor. You see those pots?” Jordan pointed to a stack of shiny stainless-steel pots on a metal table.

“Yea,” Mariana said meekly, as she worked to mentally prepare. The kitchen made her feel even smaller than Jordan did. She was terrified, feeling like a bull about to ruin a China shop.

“I need you to fill those pots with water and set them to boil, once you’re done come to me and we’ll get the soup started. I’m going to check on the coffee, hop to it new stuff.” Jordan clapped his hands together and walked away somewhere. Mariana stared at the stack of pots with as much fear and uncertainty, as she would a nuclear bomb with sparking wires. Cooking was the worst thing someone could ask her to do, right next to heroin.

“Okay… it’s just some boiling water… how bad could it be?” Mariana rolled up her sleeves and prepared to try her best.

15 minutes later

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!” And that was the last thing Jordan said before closing the door in her face, flipping a small plastic sign from come in we’re open to sorry we’re closed. At the same time, several firemen in padded yellow suits scrambled inside through a side door by the dumpster in the ally. Yelling and cursing while trying to put out the roaring fire, which had consumed most of the kitchen and Miguel.

“I’m sorry,” Mariana said meekly as she dusted soot off her jacket and began walking back home. The street was busy now, where the day had gotten started. People crowded, some watching smoke escape through the windows at the restaurant, most were just going here and there. Brown leaves covered the wet sidewalks, stuck against moist concrete. Blown by a bipolar wind that made Mariana chill from all angles. There was a dark overhead cloud, then it started to drizzle, slowly. Enough to smell and occasionally hear pit against her polyester jacket’s hood. Mariana normally would’ve took this as a sign of good luck. Rainy days were always good days, lucky days, until today. She walked shortly to a crossing, where a glowing electronic sign boldly said to stop in red.

“That’s it… there goes my chance, man what am I going to do?” Mariana pulled out her phone, feeling small droplets of water pitter against her skin. With some starting to appear over her phone glass. She checked her temp app which she was hoping to delete later. Nothing new showed. As she put her phone away the sign turned green, and everyone except for Mariana walked forward while she debated internally. Parting around her like a river stone.

“I could… no… they said the bakery was their last recommendation. I guess I could get one of those payday loans to cover my rent but… man what am I going to do?” Mariana’s thoughts were interrupted by a shoulder check from a man passing by.

“Hey!” she almost shouted, but the green electronic sign stopped her by the nerve, now counting down from 3… 2… 1…

“Crap!” Mariana ran as fast as she could. Sprinting through a large puddle and soaking her tennis shoes as she crossed the street at the last possible second.

“Ugh… man!” Mariana groaned as she kept on walking, holding a cupped hand over her phone. Searching through all her Temp app, job apps and emails to double and triple check, but there was nothing left. It was just as the temp agent told her. She’d had over 30 different jobs in the last year. All their go-to employers had either blacklisted her or been tried and failed. This was it, nothing else was coming her way. No surprise callbacks, no random shops hiring, she was going to lose.

Mariana finally reached her building just before the rain picked up with a relieved sigh. Passing a man with bloodshot eyes, she trekked up a flight of nasty brown stairs to her apartment sluggishly. Rain reverbed throughout the building, thunder too, she could hear it through the walls. Thunder every now and then. Reaching her door an eviction notice was taped over the peep hole. Mariana ignored it, knowing it had been coming for over a week.

The inside of her apartment was poor looking, on a good day it wasn’t so grim, always a bit decayed though. Chipped dirty white paint on the walls, a vice grip on the kitchen sink to turn it on hot or cold, roach traps with dust and fresh bugs, a broken TV, a couch with a cockroach colony living inside, a sole nicotine-stained window showed the rain pouring outside. Mariana sat at the kitchen table, she was hungry, the oven was usable but the idea of eating anything from it made her feel gross. She sat quietly, listening to the rain. She would cry a little now, if she wasn’t so depressed.

“God, that guys going to sue me,” she huffed. Maybe he wouldn’t, he probably would though. It wasn’t the first time she’d been sued. Mariana had more than a few people demanding money in her life. It was her bad luck. Some of the jobs were bad fits, like when she worked a laundromat that used chemicals she was allergic too. Or when she applied to work at a pet shop when she was scared of the ferrets. Most of the jobs she lost were over plain old bad luck and bad matches. A 400,000 machine would catch fire as soon as she happened to use it. A warehouse erupting in flames when she was on night duty. Mariana didn’t even want to think about the water park incident. In that moment her mind went back to the letter which she quickly fished out of her bag to read over again.

Dear Ms. Cross,

On behalf of the Cross estate, I regretfully inform you that your loving uncle Ivo has passed away. Lacking any heirs, as his closest living relative, he has bequeathed to you the entire property of Cross farms. In order to receive this inheritance, you will need to come to 1800 Ivo drive, Sunshine Vally Kentucky 42984. We will be waiting for your arrival with excitement, sincerely yours.

Estate executor,

P. Sherman. Esq

“1800 Ivo drive, Sunshine Vally Kentucky,” Mariana reread to herself. It was a desperate thing to consider. If there was any other option, she might not do it. Mariana googled the town’s name and found an article on wiki. It was small, with a population of 150, last census was in 2000. May not even have anyone left. Still, it was a real place. It got her fantasizing. If her “Uncle Ivo” really had left her a farm, maybe she could sell it or rent it. Maybe even have it logged, get some decent money. And what if there was natural gas to drill? Heck, why not hire somebody to help her and actually learn to farm? Then a roach crawling down the wall pulled her back to a sad lonely earth. Her debts still calling like souls of the damned.

“I can’t just leave… can I?” She asked herself. Mariana took a quick look at her life again. The apartment, the letters, everything. She checked her bank balance and found 500 dollars left.

“Well… I can start new, price of living is probably cheaper and there’s something waiting for me I guess.” Mariana tried her best to remember anything about an “Uncle Ivo” from growing up but could recall nothing. Her mom was gone, and had been for years, her dad even longer. When they were around life wasn’t easy enough to think on things outside of day to day. Other family never stayed past asking for money. Maybe they mentioned something once and she just forgot, either way, this looked to be her last chance. Mariana gathered her backpack, some clean clothes that she shook out for bugs before folding into her bag, a few packs of ramen, her wallet, and the small pink handled pistol she kept under her pillow. She took one last look and left the apartment for hopefully better things.

The Greyhound

It worried Mariana that Sunshine wasn’t on the list for available stops on the Greyhound website. It made her question again if it was just fake after all. If she would uplift her life to show up to the middle of nowhere Elvis country, with no way out. She walked with the ever present tapping of rain against her coat, on her hoodie. Splashing shoes, scuffs of boots from people passing around her. All of it reminding her of what was waiting back home. Mariana figured that a lot of small towns probably weren’t on the list for stops either. She checked the site and found a town she could use as a pitstop called Middlesboro down on the Tennessee border. Which per the map was about 2 miles from Sunshine.

To avoid anyone she might know, she picked the furthest bus stop she could see herself walking. Thankful for the rain since it helped shield her. No one would recognize her soon. The streets grew less dense the farther she walked. Squishing noises, rumbles of cars driving through puddles with occasional honks and breaks squeaking. The rain was covering everyone today. It gave her peace enough to dream.

“On the Brightside,” she said to herself. “Those creditors won’t be able to find me. I’m basically debt free and I get my own farm… oh crap I don’t know how to run a farm! What do I plant? Don’t you have to rotate the crops or something? What if I rotate them the wrong way? What if it’s like a pig farm or a chicken farm?” Mariana thought about having to behead some innocent hen with a hatchet who was too old to make eggs. Imagining herself as some giant psychopath chopping off chicken heads left and right, laughing manically before revving a chainsaw.

“Oh god I can’t do that!” Mariana felt herself sweat, even though it was cold, she was sweating. Wondering how she was going to be a farmer. Then a previous thought came back, what if… she got with a guy who knew how? He could do it. She’d help him of course. Planting corn, tallying the eggs, selling what they grew at a market. Was that how farmers made money? Or do they go to the store themselves? Would there be other farmers there asking the store to sell their eggs instead? What would make Mariana’s eggs better than someone else’s? Eggs are just eggs aren’t they? But what about the guy who was going to help her get the eggs? She talked to herself, trusting the rain not to let anyone hear her ramblings.

“We’d be together all the time, maybe we’d be alone and what if he was really nice? Oh god what if he falls in love with me? What if I want him? What if we fell in love? Could I date him or is he just like an employee? Do I still pay him if we’re sleeping together? Is that sexual harassment? Am I a rapist if I date my employee?” Mariana saw an old black woman looking at her queerly. Forcing her head down and her words back inside of her head as she walked faster to outrun her shame.

Still thinking about him. The kind of guy that knows about farming might not be good to talk with… what if all he wants to talk about is corn? What if he likes chopping the heads off chickens so much that he decided to kill her? It was a possibility, at the same time, Mariana felt some butterflies in her stomach at the forbidden rural farmer romance. She imagined a big burly man coming in from the fields. Covered in dirt, a deep grimace on his face, a man like that wouldn’t do much talking. His rough hands, deep grunts, his sweat, musk. He’d smell so stinky good.

“Might not be so bad after all,” she said, checking for the old woman who was long gone. Mariana snapped herself out of the daydream and finally reached the dirty little bus stop she was going for. It was decrepit, with cracked glass, half missing on one side of the rest stop, the other had a poster ad for the move Jack and Jill, dated 2011. It was late enough in the day for the street lights to come on. She sat alone on a rusted bench, with steady anxiety creeping the longer she was there. Mariana became acutely aware of what was around her. A thin mangy dog skittered across the street. Far away men drove a car, laughing with the top down and music that boomed.

Something caught her eye which wasn’t too far, under an orange streetlight was a girl. About her age, curly blonde hair, bright blue eyes, very attractive. That set her too low, Mariana thought. That girl was stunning. Even from a street away she was beacon of attention. A glittery Barbie pink miniskirt with a tube top the same color, pink fishnets that showed most of her behind, legs that were made for walking a runway. And who could miss those knee high boots with stripper heels that made her six feet tall. Mariana thought she was so beautiful, until a man picked her up in his car. Then the world came back and she wasn’t happy anymore.

After that Mariana didn’t have to wait long before her bus arrived. It was bigger than she expected, long, silver, it looked hopeful. The driver, an older black man with a wide smile greeted her happily. The digital clock on his dashboard showed 9pm. In that moment, Mariana smiled back, it was fake, only really for him. However, she did feel genuinely hopeful for the first time in a while. There was some excitement at the taste of freedom. A sweetness like cotton candy melting on your tongue.

Mariana stepped forward, metal clanking against her shoes. The driver spoke, she didn’t listen, then she said some words that came out of instinct before forgetting the entire interaction while inside her own head. In her moment of happiness Mariana found herself deaf to the world. A weight leaving as she wondered how her creditors would look when they realized she was gone and would not be back. She found her seat and sat comfortably by a window. The outside, now separate from herself was more peaceful looking, splendid to watch. There were others on the bus who sat further away.

Nothing disturbed her as the silver dream released its breaks and began moving. She watched that spot for the pretty pink girl to return safe. Until the greyhound turned a corner and she couldn’t see it anymore. Leaving the city she was born, bred, and had spent her life struggling in. Mariana thought for a moment about looking back, she did briefly but found only an ugly boneless fog, with distant skyscrapers and rooftops poking through in a series of lights.

This didn’t feel like a proper goodbye or sound like one or look like one. Mariana slipped into a vague stage of regret for a moment. She didn’t eat at her favorite restaurant. Visit her favorite card shop or even just walk around. What about that Peruvian place she always wanted to try? That would have been a good last meal. If she wasn’t scared of the idea maybe she could’ve even hooked up with a guy, in theory.

“Well, it is what it is,” she said quietly, seeing the lights turn out on the bus. Deciding that this wasn’t a farewell tour, it was an escape. Mariana wasn’t on vacation, she was outrunning her fear in case she changed her mind. She was a rabbit being smoked out of her warren, sprinting out of a bolt hole, making a mad dash into the unknown. Someplace where the grass was hopefully greener. Mariana eased, then shifted in her seat. It was a cotton blend. Made with the public and its many potential stains in mind. Strong but comfortable. The underlying material sunk with her. A good cushion that supported most of her back. Though a little rough against her cheek. The rumbling of the bus made her tired, she used her jacket as a blanket. Cupping her backpack between her ankles. The darkness was safe. All her problems seemed to disappear as those tall buildings got smaller and smaller, fading into the black, thin grey fog of the city.

Middlesboro

A decent pothole made the bus shake and woke her, she checked her phone to confirm how far she was. Thirty minutes away from Middlesboro.

“Sorry about that folks, we’re just having a little turbulence,” the bus driver began a knee slapping laugh with a flipped lip showing full white teeth and a dirty white tongue as he cackled loudly for a few seconds. She saw fog outside, her phone said it was about 7am.

Peeking from a rain covered window, Mariana saw a place not like anything she’d seen before. It was eastern Kentucky, she knew it by the trees, everywhere trees. More green than anything. It was like the bus had taken her on an American safari. The mountains and forest covered the land, some parts of the main road had rocky bluffs with large nets to keep the rocks off the highway. Roads were decent looking, newish while the occasional trailer on the side was not. She was coming into the edge of greater civilization, gas stations, a KFC, some apartments. Most of the buildings belonged in the same category as the rough parts of Cincinnati. Old east coast grey, but at least they were spaced out here. It gave nature room to poke through, which mixed the ugly with the green, making something wholesome in a way. Decrepitly beautiful, Mariana thought. She could see town coming up now. A neat cursive sign said:

Middlesboro, Crater city, founded 1886.

The bus eased right, turned at a four way and stopped with a squeal at the corner of an AutoZone. Which was in the same building as a Dairy Queen. A green sign said that this street was called Cumberland ave. Mariana stared at the sign for a second and smirked.

“Hehe, cum ave” she pulled up her backpack and started down the isle, noticing that she was the only passenger left on board.

Mariana stepped off the Greyhound’s metal steps, jumping at the last one and using the chance to stretch her legs. Kicking her shoes and pulling at her own arms. When she was done she leaned against the rest stop. Noticeing a man about to board, realizing that was her not too long ago. She noticed how slow he did things, he wasn’t a slow person. It was where she was watching him. A strange thing, without thinking she took time to notice all the little things about him. The man’s appearance nearly entranced her in an attentive way. Giving Mariana something to think about other than her situation.

The man was scruffy looking, older. If she still had her father, he’d be about this man’s age give or take. A black salt pepper beard like the puffed chest of a proud pigeon. Uncombed wild black hair. His grey eyes surrounded by tanned leather skin and bad crow’s feet; below was a big flat nose that needed a trim. She couldn’t see his mouth for the hair, only a thick bottom lip protruding. His clothes reminded her of Rambo in the first movie. They were baggy, an army green jacket with several empty pockets, maybe he was a veteran at one time? Blue jeans so dirty they were grey that bunched at the bottoms like thick wrinkles over a bulldogs face, they covered his dirty boots. He smelled. Maybe he was homeless, leaving his debts like she did.

The man slung an ugly green duffle bag over a thin shoulder. It appeared too big, heavy enough to throw him down, yet he held it strong with a badly scarred hand. The man never looked her way as he stepped onto the Greyhound. Mariana lost him once he entered. She tried to keep an eye on him as he found his seat somewhere inside, however the bus was too tall and too big to keep track from where she stood. Maybe a minute passed, then another person got on before the driver shifted a lever which closed the mechanical door. The bus hissed, whined like a cat in heat, then a metallic shift moved and the wheels began to spin. The engine groaned back down the highway as Mariana was finally left alone.

“Holy crap… I’m really on my own,” she looked around. Green and grey and ugly. Nothing had changed, except she was in the ugly now with no bus to keep her from reality. She felt her stomach rumble loudly and was thankful she was alone so no one heard it. Briefly Mariana considered buying some breakfast but worried since this was her last 500 dollars. On the 50/50 chance she screwed up and really was stuck in the middle of nowhere, she sure would like that 500 dollars. Instead, she checked her maps app and produced an expired protein bar from her backpack that she’d ignored for too long. Crunching her teeth into stale marshmallow mixed in nuts and peanuts. Something like a smore but without chocolate.

“Two miles… god I hate marshmallows… well, let’s be a big girl and do this”

Mariana started. The first step was the hardest. It was on old concrete poured back in the 80s. Eaten up by rain to point it looked like acid did the work. Dark grey mixed in with light bits. Cracked to hell with grass starting to win over on the border. Her foot hurt a little on that step, then it didn’t as one went past the other. It was nearly dark. Sun was out, but not here. It was behind a mountain somewhere and the morning fog kept what got through smothered. Some of the few cars going by still had their lights on. A strange thing that Mariana noticed was that no one was walking. Outside of the cars and distance lights in building windows, there were no people out here. Making her feel more an outsider.

Back home an empty street was rarely empty, there was always someone, a homeless person, a pretty girl like she saw back at the bus stop, a straggler ducking into an ally, even a racoon would have been welcome. There were no alleyways here, not like in Cincinnati. Buildings had gaps between them, but these weren’t real ally ways. True alleyways were a second layer of society, another world where things happened that no one outside ever saw. Mariana reached Mainstreet and was now surrounded by taller buildings, some 3-4 stories, semi modern mixed with old faded 1900s brick. It still didn’t feel like a city to her, this place felt primitive, like these people were trying to erect a society they’d only heard about. That or the apocalypse already happened and they’d barely gotten back on their feet. Then the smell hit.

“Oh my god what is that smell?” Mariana suddenly caught of whiff something she could only describe as rotten ass. Scrunching her face she walked faster, looking around for a rotted racoon or old garbage. She didn’t find any. It was just the little town and it’s Mainstreet of crappy buildings. She walked faster, checking her phone she saw where the blue line led and decided to make a short cut. Cutting into one of the “alleyways” past a green dumpster and out the back to more trees. Then a back street with a sketchy-looking suburb was in front of her. She was in redneck ghetto. Mariana thought about turning back but the smell was still there, she pressed forward.

Ignoring everything, she starting jogging. If there were people she would have bared with it but luckily the day still wasn’t here. Her phone said it was 7:38, people were getting ready. She hurried, jogging past broken fences, barking dogs, confederate flags, and an old man covered in warts who was at his mailbox. Mariana didn’t care about the world, only that god awful smell and getting where she wanted to go. It was like jogging through a junk yard or a field of dumpsters. It was awful, not incredibly strong but putrid and tangy. Towards the end of the neighborhood, across the street from the last of the houses Mariana checked her position and found herself at a hollow mouth to a back road. She stopped and waffled her nose to clear the air. It was gone finally.

She checked her phone and sure enough Sunshine was this way. The hollow’s mouth was big and imposing. A road ahead, if she could call it that. Broken and mended and broken and mended again, covered in cracks and potholes. Looking worse than everything behind her. Above were trees, old looking, the kind the pioneers cut down, overgrown with thick imposing canopies that darkened ahead. The way it was made, made it actually look like a mouth. A big demonic mouth that would swallow her. She felt a breeze at her back, which flowed through her hair. It was going into the mouth. Carrying leaves inside, trying to suck her in, it was breathing.

“Oh no… am I’m about to be one of those idiots who dies first in horror movies?”

Mariana considered giving up and turning around. It was scary looking, something about the ancient looking trees and the busted up road gave an eldritch feeling. Something bizarre and strange, old and powerful. Touched by the modern world but not enough to wipe away what was there. Mariana couldn’t move her feet. She was stuck, planted. She would need a reason to move. She had to think of something to make herself move forward or backwards. Mariana reached into her pocket hoping for a quarter, then found a nickel she’d kept for too long. It would work. She thought to flip it, heads go on, tails leave.

“Okay let’s see where life takes me,” she said before awkwardly flipping it in the air. The nickel started spinning as expected, but a sudden gust of wind caught it off course, even moving herself. The nickel lunged forward, turning and striking into the ground on it’s side with a ping. It rolled forward down the hollow mouth into a ditch. Mariana imagined herself going after it, then predicted snakes, racoons, maybe even a rapist was hiding in there for all she knew.

“Goddamn it,” she huffed at losing her nickel. Realizing she only had 499.95 dollars to her name.

“Well… it was Jefferson’s dying wish,” Mariana adjusted her backpack, checked her phone and saw she was less than a mile away. Walking into the mouth of the hollow.

Sunshine Valley

It was 8:20 now, like Middlesboro it should’ve been daylight, wasn’t. The trees which stretched over the road made it darker than where she came from, blocking even more of the sun. It was cold. Mariana’s breath came out like the steam from a train. Up, then behind her before it died out from the cold. Something about this road wasn’t normal. More than just creepy, it was quiet. She would say it was too quiet. However, this road was more dead than silent. There were no animals. No birds, squirrels, leaves, wind, or distant sounds. She wasn’t that far from Middlesboro. Mariana knew she should at least be able to hear cars, wind, anything.

If it weren’t for the trees there would be no signs of life. Then the fog eased in. It was thin at first. Before long, thick as concrete and just as imposing. Mariana felt blind, only able to see about ten feet ahead. If she were to get turned around, she’d be lost. Only the wet scruffs of her shoes were with her. She was afraid to speak or complain out loud, afraid what maybe was around her, what might be listening. Something had saw her. She had no proof but knew it was there. Somewhere it was watching her through the fog. Her instincts said to take her pink pistol from the backpack. A part of her disagreed. Can’t let it know she knows.

“Am I going crazy?” She thought, feeling the hairs stand on her neck.

Mariana blinked away the turmoil and carefully reached for her gun. Swallowing extra spit while her eyes darted around the fog, looking for proof of danger. Torn between wanting to be wrong or being right. She tucked it into her jacket pocket. She didn’t feel better. She was still walking with something in the fog. Walking, wet scuffing of her feet. Eyes scanning for anything. A twig snapped. Mariana stopped with a crunch of road gravel. It was so quiet, it was as if sound didn’t exist. Her hand clutched tightly around the pink pistol’s grip. She was right. Something was here. Something was watching her right now. Mariana felt her hand tremble around the gun. Her chest tightened. A cold sweat came. She licked her lips and looked around, slowly. Worried that whatever watched might strike if she moved too fast.

An instinct to pray came over her, she was too afraid to even say it inside her mind. She mulled over it, then her stomach dropped. It was in the woods. Someone wearing a yellow raincoat was standing silently in the fog. Watching her. Mariana dared not to look directly. She was sure it was some hillbilly lunatic. Which made her feel better, knowing it was a person. With a quick breath she steadied herself and marched on. Hand firmly around the pistol in her jacket pocket she walked. Not looking at the person. Eyes ahead, but still aware of them. Mariana walked until the lunatic had disappeared back into the fog. The road was still long, her phone had lost signal but the maps app stayed. It showed the town coming up shortly, within the next minute. Mariana walked a little faster. Almost jogging until the fog broke and she saw it. Down in a little valley, was a town covered in Sunshine.

“Oh my God Finally!” Mariana didn’t look back as she stared down at her new life. The town itself wasn’t very large. Making Middlesboro like look like Cincinnati. Mariana could see most of it while coming down the hill. The valley was bowl shaped, surrounded by mountains and forest with exception of one side, which most of the buildings faced. A river that was almost as large as the one that connected Cincinnati to Louisville back home. It looked as if the town was built around the river.

As she finally reached the town itself. Mariana took metal note of what was here. It was nice, in a Bag End sort of way. A stretch of road with a courthouse, a grocery store called McGivern where she saw some people picking off the shelves through a large glass window, a pawn shop called the Cats Eye, a Bank, a police station, fire station, seemed to have the basics for a town. It made Mariana recall a memory of someone she used to work with. His name might’ve been Jasper or Jayden, she wasn’t sure. She did remember how he’d told her that his life goal was to leave and move out to the country, live off the land, have his own homestead where he collected rainwater, grew his own food and hunted for meat.

Seeing a squirrel skitter across a powerline after a blue bird. Mariana was about ready to say sorry if she ever came across him again, because this was a nice place. Her and another girl laughed at him as soon as he left when he’d talk about it, then Mariana got laid off for starting a grease fire. She felt like an ass. Here she was, about to live that guy’s dream or was she? Despite the cozy atmosphere part of Mariana reminded herself that she could still be homeless, that this could all be fake. She recalled the letter, reading it over again.

“1800 Ivo drive,” she said to herself. Mariana tried to google the address but found her phone unreasonably slow. Stuck on a blank loading screen.

“Crap, just my luck,” Mariana scoffed. She then took another look at the town and where she came. She knew not to panic, all wasn’t lost, she just had to get her footing again. Gazing towards the Mainstreet, she thought on where she could get the best help. She could go to the police but it didn’t seem like their area of expertise. She also didn’t want to wander from person to person like a lost little girl asking for directions. That was how you end up in a barrel, she thought.

“I’m guessing the courthouse is a good place to start. Alright girl, let’s get some answers,” Mariana started to cross the street. Before she had taken the first step, Jaxson and Amber watched her while sipping coffee against the brick wall of the grocery store.

“That’s her?” Amber asked. Drinking iced black coffee.

“Gotta be, she’s the only hipster in town,” Jaxson sipped a French vanilla latte. Smacking his lips and wiping the streak of white cream off his nose.

“I think her outfits cute,” Amber smirked.

“Alright gothic witch,” Jaxson watched the new girl intently, not taking his eyes off her for a moment. Wishing he had his binoculars with him to get a better look.

“Right back at you nerd… so how do you want do this? Walk right up to her and say: Hey girl welcome to hell, by the way how are you going to get us out of here?” Amber pranced in place and spoke with her best valley girl accent.

“I was thinking more of a musical number,” Jaxson sipped.

“Oh, we could be like the breakfast club,” Amber tossed her half empty cup into a trash can. Shooting it like a basketball.

“That’s not even a musical,” Jaxson tossed his as well, missing the can by a mile while he checked his phone.

“Yea musical my balls, we’ll do grease then,” Amber’s grin died as she saw Jaxson quietly staring at his phone. It was the same look he always had when something didn’t go right.

“What’s wrong nerd?”

“We’re too late…look,” Jaxson showed an image from one of his trail cameras. The fog was dense, but to the far left he could see the girl walking down the road. To the right, it was Fox, he might not have seen her if it wasn’t for that damn yellow coat. The one that scared him shitless, made him question every little noise and burned in his mind. Fox was watching the girl coming down the road.

“Shit…” Amber said.

“How is she alive?” Jaxson asked, while frantically looking through more footage. Amber picked at her nails as she thought on it.

“It must be where she’s new in town”

“You think it’s afraid of her?” Jaxson spoke, not looking away from his phone. He couldn’t see her on any of the other cameras.

“Fox isn’t afraid of anything… it’s probably just curious, people don’t exactly wander into Sunshine.” Amber and Jaxson watched the girl walk up the courthouse steps before disappearing inside.

“We can wait for her at the old Cross farm,” Amber patted Jaxson’s shoulder. He huffed while putting his phone away.

“How do you know she’s even going to be there?” Jaxson asked, wiping some sweat from his eyebrows, feeling a phantom pain in his fingernails. He noticed a large dark cloud slowly covering the valley.

“Remember what Guy said? Cross farms is the only safe place in the valley. If that girl is going to help us, I’m betting it’ll be her home.” Jaxson stared at Amber with the worst face he could muster.

“I’ll never get your weird right brain logic, but I’ve not got anything better. Let’s go pick her a welcome basket I guess.” Jaxson joined her as the rain slowly started. A drizzle came over the town, driving most people inside. It was grey and somber, with enough relief to make the hot flushed like Jaxson, feel very cool. An old woman sat on her porch watching it. A man drank soda from behind a glass window. Dogs chased a cat under a porch. A woman laughed somewhere. Cars came and parked and went. The rain was easy, tacking against the ground, roofs, and umbrellas over sounds of civilization. Wind chimes felt the breeze, each singing their own unique songs. From the top of the mountain through the town and into the rushing river. Sunshine was having a rainy day.

McGivern

Mariana was about to pull out her hair. She wanted to cry, give up, jump for joy, thank God, rededicate her life to something meaningful and burn it all down while she swan dived off a cliff. It had been four hours since she entered town and now she’d spent most of that waiting in lines, sitting until her butt went numb, and talking to people who weren’t paid enough to care. And not a single person could help her. As she walked out a failure she was at least out of the building. It was every emotion at once.

“We can’t give out that information without a proper ID Ma’am,” Mariana didn’t have an ID, because she never needed one. She had always been able to get by with her social. Never needed to drive when she could walk everywhere she had to go. She had taken out loans, but her social was always good enough along with her birth certificate. Mariana thought it was unfair, especially since she’d waited hours to be told off by an old hag with 3-inch-thick glasses. As she left the courthouse she considered turning around walking back to Middlesboro. It might’ve smelled like rotten ass but it was least something. Sunshine was barely bigger than the suburb she’d walked through earlier.

“Awh crap!” Mariana felt the rain before she saw it. The dark cloud hovering over town trickled down a steady drizzle before rearing to a monsoon all in five seconds. She heard it back inside when it was weak, even found it soothing over the office smell and lines that went nowhere. Somehow she’d forgotten it. It was nearly dark now despite being 3pm, the sun was tucked behind a mountain and the cloud covered the valley in a thick shadow. Mariana thought it felt more like 8 or even 9pm, part of her not believing the time on her phone, it began to pour. Seeing no other option than to stand around getting soaked, she dashed down the stone steps, splashing through several puddles along the sidewalk before ducking under an emerald green awning. She was cold now, her breath visible, trembling along with her hands which hugged her shoulders.

Mariana looked back at the rain for a moment. Watching it drench the town with water so thick she couldn’t see road she came down anymore. The rain was trying to drown them all.

“Fuck! Just! Fuck!” Mariana kicked a puddle sending water into the flooded street.

“What am I going to do?” She paced and gripped the sides of her head, breathing loud, on the verge of crying. She regretted it all. Everything at once. From leaving Cincinnati, getting on the Greyhound, jogging through that gross smelling town, walking down the mountain and even being born. Mariana sat on bit of brick wall which jutted out from below the glass window behind her. Swiping off a few saved cigarettes from the mortar. She sobbed, putting her head to her knees wondering why she had to be so unlucky. A bell dinged to her left, surprising her enough to look.

It was a man, stocky, short and old, but not that old. The man’s face was tanned with beady eyes, like two tiny blue marbles smooshed between his cheeks and eyebrows. Below was a mustache with a gap in the middle, his lip was rented to two fuzzy brown caterpillars. A neck like a turtles, wrinkled, wise looking. He worn a straw beach hat, along with a Hawaiian shirt, white shorts and sandals. There was a name tag by a yellow flower on his shift: “George McGivern”

“Oh are you okay there young lady?” George asked, with high pitched Michigan accent. Mariana remembered the name. figuring this was the grocery store she saw earlier.

“I’m okay, I’m just having a bad day,” Mariana wiped her nose, which starting to snot from the cold.

“Well, a bad day is usually better inside where it’s warm, why don’t you come in for a spell?” George offered, standing by the glass door to hold it open for her.

“I… I don’t know what to say”

“Well I think you should say yes, I’ve got coco with your name on it if you’d like,” George extended a chubby, calloused hand that looked like a club. It was as tanned as his face.

“Thank you,” she took the hand and he helped pull her up.

“I’m George and this is my store, everyone’s welcome”

Mariana entered first and George followed behind her with the clink of the door’s bell swinging, stepping ahead to get their coco. Mariana pulled her hood back, feeling warm as her eyes adjusted to the light. It was a cozy little store, like something on a beach peer. Small, only three isles all with food. One section which stretched the length of the wall was for anything cold. A sign by the cash register stated bluntly in bold red letters:

“No Alcohol or tobacco sold here.”

It was strange but somehow wholesome, how the little man had carved out his own niche place in the world. It was something Mariana wanted for herself someday. Walking to the counter by the register, the old man had two mugs of hot coco with whipped cream and marshmallows, steaming and ready to go.

“I like to drink two on rainy days as a reward, but I supposed I can manage without one. I make my coco with whole milk instead of water, I hope you don’t mind.” Mariana heard the words and it only made her faster. She snatched the mug, spilling some on her hands as she began drinking like a starved raccoon. George laughed as he began gently sipping his own steaming coco, minding the heat on his sensitive teeth.

“My my, I’m sure glad I found you. I haven’t seen someone enjoy my coco like that since my son was a boy,” Mariana drank more before she lowered the mug to get a breath in.

“Oh, how olds your son?” She asked.

“He’s grown, got a few rug rats of his own to juggle. My Doris would have loved to see them, God rest her soul.” The comment made Mariana lower the coco in respect, watching the man’s beady blue dots lose some of their glimmer.

“I’m sorry,” she said. George raised his hand and smiled proudly.

“Don’t be, we had a good run me and her. Good family, good life, only wish we’d met sooner, would’ve had more kids. Say you don’t strike me as a southern belle, where are you from?”

“I’m from Cincinnati, I came down here to see some family”

“Ah a fellow northerner, I moved down here with Doris back in 62. I was thirty years old lean as a whipper, but” George patted his stomach. “Not after I started drinking two coco’s every time it rained!” he laughed, sipping his coco. Mariana laughed with him. She thought he looked really good for a 90 something old man.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in the market for a grocery store would you?” George asked.

“I’m a little short on cash right now,” Mariana’s words made him giggle.

“Thought so, apparently everyone in this town is. I’m afraid I won’t be here much longer, I’m going to go see my boy tomorrow in Hawaii.” He gestured to his shirt, smirking. “Then I’m probably going back up north. I’ve got a friend whose going to look over the place for me till we sell it, so we probably won’t see each other again. Just wanted you to know, you’ve gave an old man a good send off young lady.” George raised his coco mug, still steaming but less so.

“Please, call me Mariana, Mariana Cross,” She raised her mug to ding his gently before nearly finishing it.

“Mariana Cross… you wouldn’t happen to be kin to the owners of that Cross farm would you?” He asked.

“I’m actually here for that reason! I got a letter saying my uncle Ivo passed away and I was trying to get directions there but no one’s been able to help me.” Mariana fished the letter from her bag and showed it to George. Who produced a small pair of reading glasses before holding the paper high up to his pug-like nose.

“Hmmmm, address is right around here, but I’ve never met Ivo, can’t recall hearing much. Wasn’t sure who was running the place. Anyhow, you’ve got a fine inheritance I’ll tell you that. Most of the town gets its local produce from there, I always preferred Cross farms produce myself. Instead of that Supermart, they’re trying to put all of us out of business. Cross farms is a good place for a good young woman with a good head on her shoulders like you. I’m glad you’ll be running it.” His comment made Mariana blush.

“Well, I don’t know much about farming, I hope everything will still be good”

“You think I knew anything about groceries when I bought this old place. Pshaw! You’ll fail and fail and fail again, but if you keep at her it’ll work out for you, I’m sure!”

“Thank you, I hate to ask since you’ve been so nice but could give me directions to Cross farms?” In that moment, the doorbell rang, sounds of rain echoed with a creak along with bare wet footsteps.

“Be right with you!” George yelled. “I’ve never been by there myself, so I can’t really give you good directions. But I’ve got an old tourist pamphlet with a map here if you want it? Should help you get around better than nothing.” George stepped by the cash register and took one of several pamphlets that were neatly arraigned on a stand. Handing the paper over. Mariana opened the pamphlet into four squares, seeing a drawn out cooky cartoon version of Sunshine. There was the square, the Supermart, Old heights, a dock, several points along with Cross farms. Located outside of town where it offered hay rides and tours.

“Man this is… thank you!” Mariana wasn’t sure what to say. It was the best thing to happen to her all day, it wasn’t for nothing after all which made it all worth it. She studied the map intently, tracing where to go with her finger. Starting at the grocery store, then the courthouse, coffee shop, down to the blood. After the coffee shop the map was soaking in blood. So dark and thick that it made it unreadable. Mariana blinked her eyes, confused, wondering what was going on. She lowered the map. More blood, splattered over the wall and cash register, the isle, dripping off chip bags, pooling on the floor. George stood, twitching occasionally in place, blood poured down over his Hawaiian shirt, his white pants, over his shoes. His head was encased in the mouth of something red and scaled, with sharp teeth. Something like a snake with a large weasel head, big enough to completely encase George’s head, covered in bright scarlet red scales that shimmered in the light.

The snake suddenly twisted with a wet horrible snap and a pull, tearing meat, George head off. George fell, more accurately he collapsed, knees buckled straight down under their weight. He no longer had a head. Only rubbery flesh which gushed blood onto the floor. It didn’t feel real, it couldn’t be, there was no sound he just died. Even the pale hand slinking over Mariana’s shoulder. It couldn’t be real. As the red killer slithered back, Mariana felt her chin gently grasped, being turned to the left. It was an Asian girl with the darkest hair she’d ever seen, maybe a little younger than herself, hooded in a bright yellow rain coat buttoned down to her knees.

“Who are you?” the girl asked, her voice was deliberate, with no sympathy.

“Mariana Cross…” her voice trembled weakly.

“You’re strange to me Mariana Cross, very strange, why did you come to Sunshine?” As she spoke, Mariana felt a something slimy moving by her hand, then a warm breath on the other side of her head, there were more of those things that killed George, slithering around her touching. Mariana found herself unable to speak. This seemed to irritate the girl. Mariana felt a burning in her hand, one of the scarlet snakes had gashed it open down the middle, splitting her fingers in the blink of an eye, her own blood dribbled onto the floor, mixing with Georges. Mariana stared down at it, unable to cry, shocked, realizing she could die here.

“Don’t make me ask you twice,” the girl said.

“I I I” Mariana shuddered. Then felt a cold, burning feeling on her back, then her ankle got cold, something had been snipped, causing her to collapse. It had cut her Achillies tendon. Mariana turned on her back, then saw the girl fully. There were several of those huge scarlet snakes all slithering from her back. The girl’s mouth was bloody now, having been licking her fingers of Mariana’s blood. Part of her lips retracted, showing a full set of terrible wolf-like teeth, that disappeared back into a dainty little mouth. Mariana crawled backwards, a trail of both her and George’s blood as she dragged herself, pushing with a split hand that burned terribly.

“No no no” Mariana begged, clawing her way towards the door, the rain, anything from this hell she’d walked into.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mariana felt a hard pressure on her leg instantly. This girl, no thing, was so fast! How could she be so fast! Mariana was nearly across the room! The girl now stood on her knee with one bare foot, pressing hard, she could feel something about to snap.

“God please!” Mariana cried as her leg was suddenly destroyed, pressed backwards, the bone was crushed, the tendons severed, cartilage ripped. All by one dainty bare foot.

“This is your last chance Mariana Cross, tell me what I want to know or this will be a very painful death.” Her voice was calm, authoritarian and monotone. Mariana had no idea what to say to her, and for a moment of silence, she paid for it. All of the scarlet beasts pounced, ripped and tore into her like a pack of wild dogs. Biting and pulling and ripping, making sure to keep her alive. While her screams echoed through the store no one could hear her over the thunder and the rain outside. Her skin was flayed, ripped off in chunks. Her fingers bitten off one by one. Her breasts torn one chunk at a time, her eyes plucked, her ear chomped off. Until one of the scarlet snakes went too far and broke her neck in its jaw. Letting the bloody girl go limp and dead.

“I play too much,” the girl said as her beast let Mariana fall from its jaws with a thump, blood dripping from its jagged red fangs. The girl wiped her mouth, seeing the blood splattered across the grocery store, even making it to the glass refrigerator case in the back.

“This is not over Mariana Cross… I expect an answer next time or I’ll make it worse.”

The sun peek through a window. Shining into Mariana’s eyes. As soon as she was awake, she gasped, raising up fast, she died, didn’t she? A hand was on her chest to keep her in place.

“Hey there! It’s okay, you’re safe, no ones going to hurt you here,” it was a girl, about her age.

“Yea what she said” a guy spoke. Mariana blinked her eyes uneasily. Seeing a gothic girl with purple highlights and black hair. And a boy, broad, built like a farmer but with thick glasses.

“Who… Who are you two?” Mariana asked

“I’m Amber and this is Jaxson, we need to talk, but first-” The girl reached down to the floor and came up with a fruit basket filled with soaps, bananas, oranges, apples, chocolate and a card with a heart on it.

“Welcome to Sunshine”