NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge Final Round -- Hayley's Essence

For this final round of the competition, 60 of us were given the genre Sci-Fi, and the subject Neighbors on Friday, March 13 at Midnight Eastern. We had 24 hours to write a story for a chance at the big bucks and future fame and fortune.

After getting the assignment, my mind came up with TOO many story ideas. I started writing one, then I'd quit and write another. There were so many options with this topic. Finally on Saturday morning, I started a drama-type story filled with melancholy and sadness that, I was sure, could win this competition. But about 700 words into it, I re-read it and it was boring. My wife read it too, and she was bored. I realized I wouldn't be able to do it justice within the time frame allowed. I wasn't used to this type of story and knew I'd need a few more days to make it good.

There was only about 7 hours left to turn in the story. Frustration, and a diminutive sense of panic, set in. Then I started over. I didn't use any of my grand ideas. I just started writing whatever spilled out of my mind, and somehow I was able to submit this story below. I haven't read it since I turned it in, so I'm sure there are some typos I didn't catch. Also, this story is a little bit short at 1,700 words. There were some things I would have liked to add to it, but I didn't have time. So, with that lengthy introduction, enjoy this brain vomit:

Hayley’s Essence

Synopsis: When Ian Stone wakes up in the middle of the night to find his wife missing, he’s certain The Neighbors have taken her. While saving his own life, he is led to something else that gives him hope in this post-apocalyptic tale.

Ian Stone woke in a sweat. His body felt ablaze, yet he shivered from some unknown source that chilled his core. Fingers of dawn grabbed at his face through cracks in the two-by-fours that boarded the windows. His eyes felt sticky as he tried to pry them open. He turned over on his right side and leaned in to hold his wife for a few minutes.

He only felt pillow and bedspread. The right side of the bed was vacant. He popped up and frantically searched the bed.

“Baby, you here?” He jumped off the bed and opened the bedroom door. “Where are you? Hayley?”

“Ian,” a voice called out from the dark room.

Ian recognized the voice, but couldn’t immediately place it. His vision was blurred and it was too dark to see clearly into the dusty living room.

“Ian, I’m here to help. But I can’t stay long.” The voice was clearer, more recognizable. It was Hayley’s voice. Her figure materialized out of the darkness in a faint glow. He recognized Hayley, but knew something was different. Something was wrong.

“Hayley?” Ian said as he stepped closer. He reached out to her, wanting even more to hold her again, but stopped and stared at the woman he loved. His heart pounded, his stomach churned nervously. He knew this was not his wife.

Ian and Hayley had both created their “essences” in case one of them was taken by The Neighbors and the other was left alone. The essences were programs downloaded to an implanted chip in the partner’s temporal lobe. If one of them was dying, or losing their humanity, the chip would automatically activate in the other person. They were meant to guide whoever was left to safety, and to say goodbye if there wasn’t a chance. Only Ian could see Hayley’s essence.

“Hayley, no! How could they have taken you?” Ian dropped to his knees. His thoughts immediately drawn towards his last memory of her. Just last night they laughed together. Ian had watched her breathing when she fell asleep. He loved the woman and her peaceful sleep softened his soul.

The glowing apparition moved closer and put the back of its hand on his tear-soaked left cheek. Ian could almost feel the warmth of the hand. He could almost feel Hayley’s soft skin caress his face.

“Ian, it’s no longer safe here. The Neighbors know you’re here. You have to move. You have to leave this place. You have to continue on without me.”

“No, I can’t.” But he knew he must. “It’s not worth it alone.”

With a translucent finger, Haley’s ghost reached down and pulled up his chin with its index finger. Just like Hayley would have done. “Ian, I will always be with you, my love. You must continue on. For me. For you.”

Ian closed his eyes. His mind’s eye saw an image of her when they were in the Oregon Coast, before The Neighbors came, when the oceans still teemed with life. She stood in a light sweater with her hands in her pockets. Her head was cocked to the side, she smiled at him. The sun shone brightly. Waves crashed in the distance. The air smelled of saltwater and sand. She took off her sweater and bounded into the blue Pacific, laughing –

“The Neighbors are here, now.” the hologram said, waking him from his daydream. “They’re through the back door. You must hurry, Ian. It’s not safe here anymore.”

Then he heard it. A slight creek on the floorboards near the back door. The Neighbors usually operated in complete stealth. But the old floorboards were sensitive to any movement.

The beaming figure turned sharply. In a rush of static, specs of light spun in the air then vanished. Hayley’s essence dematerialized.

As the Essence disappeared, Ian saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He jumped to his feet and ran back into his room and locked the bedroom door. More light filtered through the boards over the window. He ran to the window and started ripping boards off. It would be his only escape from The Neighbors.

Hayley would soon become part of The Neighbors. She was probably going through it at this moment. Changing. There would be no stopping it now. There would be no saving her. Hayley was truly gone.

The Neighbors were at the bedroom door. He could hear them scratching, cutting. Soon the lock would be broken. If he was in the room when they broke in, it would be over.

“Hurry, Ian.”

Hayley’s voice was comforting, even though it was just the Essence speaking somewhere in the abyss of his mind. Ian kicked the last board down and stepped up to the window. The light coming through wasn’t the sun. Just a streetlamp aimed at the window. Night drowned the lifeless city two stories below.

“Jump, Ian. You’ll land safely.”

Ian jumped as the bedroom door swung open. The decayed trash in the dumpster wasn’t as soft as Ian thought it would be. Fueled by adrenaline, he rolled out of the dumpster onto the pavement and sprinted towards cover in the buildings to the north.

A silent flicker of twilight blue …

The dumpster exploded.

He dared not look back for fear of spotting The Neighbors in pursuit. He could not bear to view them. Each time he saw one, something dark roiled his insides.

Down an alley, the Essence stood pointing at an abandoned building. Ian leaped inside. He took only five steps into the hallway before he crashed through the floor.

****

He wasn’t sure how long he was out. He opened his eyes and saw Hayley standing above him. He sat up in a pile of debris. His body bruised. His right ankle was pounding. He tried to stand but collapsed.

He stood up again and was about to speak to the Essence, but it held a finger to its mouth, “Shhh ... ,” the Essence then pointed to a closet door.

“What is it?” Ian whispered. “What’s in there?”

The Essence looked puzzled. Then finally spoke, “I’m struggling for the right words.”

Hayley’s real consciousness must be fading, overtaken by The Neighbors.

Ian walked over to the door. “You want me to open it?”

The Essence nodded.

Ian slowly opened the door.

Something buried itself in the corner of the closet, in the fetal position, shivering from fear and cold.

A little girl. Another human! How did Hayley know? She must have seen her when she was taken.

Ian crouched down to the floor and whispered, “Hey there. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.”
The girl looked up. Her large hazel eyes were pools of sadness and fear. She was no more than ten years old.

“What’s your name?”

“Hayley. Hayley Brown.”

Ian paused and stared at the girl. “Your name is Hayley?”

The girl nodded, “Uh-huh.”

Ian looked up at the Essence. It was smiling for the first time. Ian looked back at the girl in the closet “Well, Hayley, it’s nice to meet you.”

The girl smiled and looked to the ground, embarrassed.

“Hide her!” the Essence said. “They’re above us now.”

Ian saw worry painted on the Essence’s face. He looked back down at the girl. “Hayley, can you hide here for just a few more minutes?”

“Please don’t leave me alone. The bad things will come get me.”

“I’ll be back for you I promise. I won’t let them get you. Be really quiet so the bad things don’t find you, okay?”

The girl nodded her head. Ian quietly shut the door.

“They are coming down the stairs,” the Essence said, panicking.

Ian ran back to the rubble pile and buried himself in drywall and sheetrock, hoping that if he stayed still, The Neighbors would only see him as part of the building. He looked back at the closet. The Essence was gone.

He waited about 10 minutes before he saw one come down the stairs. It walked with impressive agility. It seemed to float along the floor like a ghost. Parts of its body glimmered in the faint light. The machine parts. The parts that stole humanity.

It turned its head toward Ian, its red, laser eye piercing the darkness, searching for signs of human life.

Ian stayed still. Hayley, I can’t do it alone. I can’t continue without you. If I get caught, they’ll just bring me to you. Then I can be with you again. If I just stand up, it’ll be over.

“Ian, no.”

Hayley, you’re still there?

“I’m not what I was or who I was anymore. What I was is now dead.”

Hayley, without you, I’m dying. Without you, I’m dead.

Hayley’s essence again materialized in front of Ian. “I can’t keep the Essence going, Ian. You must save yourself and that little girl. For us. Keep me alive in her. I will soon be gone.”
The Essence pointed to the closet again. The Neighbor was a couple feet from the door. It reached for the door handle.

“Save her and live,” the Essence said.

The Essence dematerialized. Ian picked up a slab of concrete and ran to The Neighbor. The Neighbor turned.

A flicker of twilight blue …

****

The sun shone brightly on the Oregon Coast. The blue Pacific Ocean rolled in the distance. Waves rumbled. The sea lapped against the beach, leaving trails of foam. Air pockets in the sand blew bubbles as the water receded. Gulls cried in the sky.

Ian sat with his feet submerged in the warm sand and looked out at Hayley. The little girl was playing in the surf. She laughed as a wave knocked her over.

Hayley ran back with something in her hand.

“Ian, Ian. Look what I found.”

She opened her hand and a crab-like creature spun around. The movement tickled, and she let out a squeal, dropping the crustacean. It quickly burrowed into the sand out of sight.

Ian laughed.

“What are those, Ian?”

“Those? Oh, those are sand fleas.”

“Life?”

“Yes, life.”

“Let’s go find some more,” and she ran off back to the surf.

Ian couldn’t help but smile. He stood up to follow and saw the massive burn scars on his right arm, triggering the memory of the conflict with one of The Neighbors. He thought of his wife, and then looked at the girl playing in the surf trying to catch sand fleas. He remembered his wife’s last words, “Keep me alive in her … Save her and live.”

Ian jogged to meet Hayley. He would catch as many sand fleas as he could.

NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge

I haven't written a short story since high school about 13 years ago. So, naturally, I entered this contest. On Jan. 16, I was given the Suspense genre with the subject of a straightjacket. We all had a week to submit a short story that's less than 2,500 words. I wrote three stories, here's the only one I actually liked. Enjoy its awesomeness:

The One Who Had Mercy

Synopsis: While tracking a herd of elk through dense fog, a bow hunter finds more than just big game when three men appear out of nowhere, shackled in straightjackets lying face down in the grass. After helping the only survivor, the hunter becomes the hunted and fights for both his life and the life of a delirious stranger.

Ray Landry rested his elbows on a low-hanging branch. His binoculars scanned the opposite side of the draw. Patches of early morning fog drifted through the pine trees and open meadows, hiding his quarry. He looked away, blinked a few times to moisten his eyes and then returned to his search.

He spoke softly to himself, “Come on, come on. I know you’re there, I can hear you.”

A high pitched cry rang through the mountains and was answered by echoes on the lower canyon walls. Elk bugles and chirps came from every direction in the forest and the fog. Ray kept his gaze on the clearing on the opposite side. He knew the big one was there.

Then he saw it.

A massive bull elk sauntered out of the fog with a majestic gait. With head held high and massive antlers raking its back, its breath plumed in the air. This was the true king of the forest.

But he had to get closer. Ray threw a pinch of dead pine needles in the air to double-check wind direction then gathered his bow, tied up his horse and circled around to the south downwind of the herd.

As he hiked, bugles continued from all sides like banshees haunting the forest. It fueled his adrenaline.

He saw the herd dispersed in and out of the trees. The large bull full of romance still stayed in the clearing and called to the cows.

Ray hid behind a thick growth of bog birch surrounding a dead tree stump. He merged with the foliage. The giant bull was within 100 feet, showing its broad side. Silently, Ray turned his cap backwards, attached an arrow to his bow, pulled it back and aimed at the heart. It would be a nice, clean kill.

The bull elk startled and turned, taking away the clean shot.

Ray slowly released the tension on the bow. Patience was critical. He’d wait for another opening.

The bull smelled the air and walked a few paces to the left, dipped its nose behind a mound that covered Ray’s view. It then suddenly grunted, lifted its head and pranced into the forest, leaving only a trail of lingering breath vapor standing in the cold air. The animals’ size belied their agility and speed. Like an army of phantoms, the whole herd elegantly gathered together and seemed to float into the trees with hardly a sound, vanishing.

Just like that. Gone.

Ray put his chin to his chest, leaned his head against his bow and took a deep breath. He stood up and walked to where the herd had been.

He stopped on the top of the mound. The sight both confused and frightened him. Three men lay prostrated on the ground – tied up in straightjackets – with their faces down in the frosty grass.

They didn’t move.

Ray didn’t think he’d see people here at all today. Much less three men in straightjackets. He approached the group.

The closest man’s face was beaten and bruised. He was on his stomach, his face was turned to the right and his mouth agape. Drool had pooled in an elk track. Ray placed his finger on the man’s neck. The skin was cold and dry. No pulse.

An icy dread climbed up Ray’s spine. He shivered, but not from the weather.

He turned to the next guy who looked like he had suffered a similar beating. Again, no pulse.

He walked over to the third man. His head was cleanly shaven. His lips blue from the cold, but they vibrated with labored breathing. He was still alive.

Ray shook him gently. “Hey, man, you OK? Can you hear me?”

The man moaned an undecipherable mutter.

A padlock sealed the back of the straightjacket where the sleeves came together, so Ray couldn’t just unlatch the thing. He pulled out his knife. It clicked as it opened. He placed the blade by the canvas loops that held the lock. Then he paused. Maybe there was a good reason these guys were straight-jacketed. He closed the knife and put it back in the sheath.

“Hey, hang in there. I’m going to get you some help, OK?

The man babbled incoherently again.

Ray leaned closer. “What are you saying?”

The man opened his eyes for the first time. A wild, glazed look from bloodshot green orbs stared at Ray. “They … they are coming. They are always coming.”

Ray’s skin jumped with gooseflesh. Then he brushed it off. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be back with the horse. Get you some water.”

****

The brown quarter horse neighed as Ray approached. Ray untied the noose then scratched her on the ears and patted her neck. “Hey Jesse, have you been behaving here all by yourself?”

He could just leave now and pretend he never saw those men. He could just ride up the hill back to the cabin and have a nice meal, read a book and then come back out towards evening and find another herd of elk along the way and forget all about that creepy guy with those eyes. He could do that, sure. But at night when Ray would lie in bed and close his eyelids, he’d see the man’s stare. It would haunt him forever.

He placed his left foot in the stirrup and lifted himself onto Jesse’s back. He paused and looked down into the draw. He blew air out of his mouth and shook his head.

****

Jesse dug her hooves in the dirt as they reached the top of the mound overlooking the three men. Ray kicked her in the side. Stubbornly, the horse wouldn’t move.

“What is it Jess?”

The horse backed up and reared her head, snorting.

“Whoa! Easy girl.” Ray patted her neck and mane. He dismounted and took her by the lead rope and rubbed the bridge of her nose to calm her.

Under Ray’s lead, Jesse followed, but with hesitation. Whatever scared the elk off had obviously spooked the horse as well.

Crazy Eyes was still wheezing on the ground. Since Jesse was still skittish, Ray tied her up to a nearby tree then took a water bottle from a saddle bag and walked over and knelt above Crazy Eyes.

“Hey, you still with me, buddy?”

Ray rolled the man over onto his back. The man’s eyelids opened halfway, his mouth opened and closed.

“I’m going to give you some water, OK?”

The man nodded his head. Ray poured a small amount of water in his mouth and the man swallowed. “More,” the man pleaded. Ray poured more water. The man choked and coughed. His eyes opened wide. “Hurry, they’re coming!”

“Who? Who’s coming?”

The man shook his head. “They’re coming.”

“Yeah. You told me. Have some more water anyway.”

He poured and the man drank. Ray looked at the straightjacket. The man’s arms were in a permanent fold. The jacket hunched his shoulders awkwardly forward. Ray again thought about releasing him from the jacket, but paused.

“Can you walk?”

The man turned his head towards Ray and stared, then turned away again.

“I guess that’s a ‘no.’” Ray said. “But you’re gonna have to stand for a second.”

Ray reached down and picked the man up by the canvas shoulders of the straightjacket. The man was taller than he thought, but light, around 6-foot-2 and 150 pounds. The man tried to stand, his head seemed to dangle from his neck. Ray dragged him around to Jesse’s left side, brought his knees underneath the man for leverage and hefted him onto Jesse’s back behind the saddle and tied him down.

The horse turned her face around to the new cargo and chuffed.

“What?” Ray said to the horse. “Don’t give me that, Jess, he’s a lot lighter than the elk we would have been dragging out of here.”

A crack split the air and the tree limb above the horse exploded. Ray hunched over as wood splinters rained down.

“What the –” With a boom, the tree trunk blew apart again.

Jesse reared and broke her lead rope. Instinctively, Ray jumped, grabbed the horse’s neck and rolled onto the saddle as the horse bounded off over the mound and into the aspen trees. More gunfire popped and Jesse galloped, zigzagging in between aspens. Ray put his head down over Jesse’s neck and held on.

Crazy Eyes laughed. It was an eerie, sort of foretelling doom kind of laugh. Ray looked back and somehow his ropes held tight while the man bounced on Jesse’s hind quarters. He was tempted to kick him off and leave him alone in the woods.

The man stuttered when he spoke, gasping air in between words as he bounced. “I … told you … th-they … are co-coming!”

The gunfire ceased, but Jesse didn’t. She ran and Ray let her. She galloped as nature intended. Cold air whisked by Ray’s face, tearing his eyes.

Jesse slowed as they reached the top of the draw. The horse breathed heavy and started limping. Ray looked back at the favored leg and saw blood flowing down her left hind quarter.

She’d been shot.

Ray dismounted and walked around to the side and punched Crazy Eyes in the back. “You did this to us! Who are these people? Who are you?”

The man didn’t react to the punch. There was an odd pause before he responded. He spoke slow, deliberate. “It doesn’t matter. They will just keep coming.”

With Jesse hurt, they couldn’t outrun the enigmatic pursuers now. They’d have to outlast them.

****

Ray Landry rested his elbows on a low-hanging branch and watched the opposite side of the draw through his binoculars. Heavy fog hid his quarry, though this time he wasn’t looking for elk.

He listened to Jesse, trusting in her instincts and heightened senses. If anything came close, she would notice it first. He was hidden fairly well here, and this was the best vantage point to see what might be coming. His only concern was that they’d see the man in the straightjacket and Jesse.

He looked over at Crazy Eyes who was now tied to a tree. Ray thought it would have been better to leave the man at the bottom of the draw. But for some reason, he was still committed to saving that man.

The man moved. “Hey … you gonna just leave me here?” he grunted.

Ray looked back, stared pathetically, and then returned his gaze through his binoculars. “Yes. I am.”

“My shoulders feel like they’re ripping off. Get me out of this.”

He was suddenly talking lucid. But Ray needed him to stay quiet. “In a minute. Stay quiet. They’re out there.”

“They’re always out there,” Crazy Eyes said slowly. “They’re always coming. Always. That’s why you need to get me out of this thing.”

Ray thought about it. At least it might make him shut up. He was about to get up and walk back when Jesse snorted. Ray hunched down. The horse neighed and jumped.

“Hey, man, you gotta get me out of this!” the man whined.

Then he saw him, like a shadow moving in the dark. About 50 yards out, someone dressed in black walked quietly through the trees. The figure stopped, looked toward them and raised a rifle.

But Ray had already taken aim. The arrow cut through the fog with silent death. The figure jolted, groaned and doubled over onto the ground dropping the weapon without firing.

“Nice job, you got one!” Crazy Eyes said, drunkenly. “But it won’t matter.”

More shadows danced in the trees, back and forth in the fog, coming towards them.

Ray crawled over and approached the man in the straightjacket. “We’ve got to hurry,” he whispered. Ray took out his knife and cut off the canvas hooks and pulled the straightjacket off his back. He wouldn’t let this man be defenseless in the coming foray.

The man grimaced as he stretched his shoulders and flexed his hands as blood flow returned to his numb extremities.

Jesse snorted again and hopped, nervously.

Ray turned around and saw shadows moving less than 30 feet away. Ray ran to his cover spot, took aim again and released an arrow. It stuck in a tree next to one of them. The figure reached around looking at the arrow, then raised his right arm towards Ray. Something glimmered in his hand.

Ray ducked as a gunshot boomed. A bullet ripped through the brush.

Jesse shrieked and snorted, then bolted into the forest to freedom.

Ray stayed on his stomach, glued to the frosted leaves that covered the ground. He watched for movement beyond.

He heard Crazy Eyes shuffling over. Ray looked up.

The bald man stood above Ray with those wild red and green eyes. He smiled at Ray, baring white teeth that seemed to glow in the gray sky. He held something high in the air.

Ray recognized the rock as it dropped down on his head. He smelled pine needles and dirt as everything went dark.

****

Ray Landry wasn’t sure if it was the cold, the pain in his shoulders and head, or the elk bugling. Maybe it was a jumble of everything that woke him. He opened his eyes and stared at the first few stars of the evening. Dusk had fallen. The fog had cleared.

He tried to sit up. His arms wouldn’t move. His shoulders were hunched and his arms forced to fold around his chest. His body ached and his fingers tingled with numbness.

Ray looked down. The straightjacket now bound his body. He tried standing but his legs couldn’t move. A sharp pain around his ankles. Rope cut into his skin above his feet and attached to his back, bending his knees.

Ray writhed and squirmed. He yelled into the mountain night.

Nobody could hear his voice.

Ray Landry wasn’t going anywhere.

He rolled onto his left shoulder and rested his head against the dirt. When he closed his eyes, a vivid image of a bald man with bloodshot green eyes grinned and laughed.

...